Ally: Allow me to talk about my baby for a minute. He`s having a rough time of it lately. In the last week and a half, four teeth have emerged. We`ve been waiting for these teeth for the last couple of months, and now, they have finally arrived. This has resulted in a relatively cranky baby, the loss of our (mutually) beloved naps, and a reservoir of drool.
My Thursday was spent as such:
- Trying to get Baby to nap
- Getting baby up from failed nap
- Playing on the play mat (aka chasing baby around the house…kid can crawl, he can crawl fast)
- Trying to get baby to nap
- Getting baby up from failed nap
- Chasing baby around house
As I had to pick up El Jeffe downtown from an off-site training session at 4pm, I decided to cut my losses at home and put baby in the car around 2pm to take a drive towards sanity. We landed on Spring Garden Rd. for a stroll in the fresh air and just happened to end up at Kick Ass Shoes (KAS) and American Apparel. Shocking, I know. One of my oldest and dearest friends (we’ve known each other since grade one), Stephanie, came along for the trip.
At this point, I think even Osama bin Laden is aware of my affection for TOMS shoes. So you will all be pleased to know that I finally purchased a pair. Wanna see? Of course you do!
I was going to go for a solid colour, but who am I kidding. Pink and blue plaid? Yes, please.
KAS has an incredible selection of shoes right now. Some twitter friends were asking whether they had the wedges in. I did not see them, although I was told that they had a shipment on the way. Here’s the selection of TOMS:
Steph found a couple of shoes she loved:
I loved these gladiator flats, but alas, my mat leave pay is not condusive to my shoe purchasing habit. Sad face. In case you are wondering, I too find it ironic that I am wearing a CBGB t-shirt. It was a gift from a friend and in no way reduces my affinity for Britney Spears-ish music.
I also really loved these shoes. I’m thinking of selling some of baby’s stuff to pay for them. KIDDING. (seriously though, how much does a lightly used exersaucer go for these days…just curious? )
Next up: American Apparel. I was on the hunt for a cotton tank and a colourful cami to wear underneath. Score!
Don’t mind the jean capris. I swear I was just pairing the tank with them for the photo. As previously mentioned, it was not a “dress up” sort of day.
I really like American Apparel bras. This is where I can actually get down with Carrie Bradshaw’s way of wearing bras as outerwear. To a point…
Yes, no thank you.
Special thanks to BabyG for selecting the bra for me. He literally hooked it onto his foot from the rack. Steph caught the moment on camera. Not one of my prouder moments as a mom.
I did really love this bodysuit, and I almost bought it. I felt like the idea of it was more attractive than the reality. Correct me if I am wrong here, but would this not be constant wedgie territory?
That’s all for me. I’m off to pour myself a box of wee splash of wine after today’s teething festivities. I leave you with your crappy pop video of the week:
For some reason, this song makes me super weepy. You do it for me Jay Z, EVERY.TIME.
P.S. Baby wants to be a part of shoe porn. He’s been feeling left out…
Put those gams away, you hussy! Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Special thanks to KAS and American Apparel for allowing us to take a few photos while shopping. And thanks to Stepha for watching baby while I tried on undergarments.
L-A: I just got home from drinking wine and eating cake (thanks to a book swap at the home of the Gifted Typist), so I’m not sure I can add much to this conversation, except: have you ever had twizzlers while drinking lemonade? I’m not kidding. It’s good stuff. I was even using my twizzler as a straw. If you think this is immature, grab an airline sized bottle of vodka (the kind nana kept in her purse for darts games…wait…not everyone’s nana did this?) and make it a grown up drink. I am seriously telling you: lemonade + twizzlers = summer lovin’ or some such reference to a movie I dislike. I was also shopping today and saw Intern Krista, but I did not take pictures. I did buy cute jewellery for $5 at the Biscuit sidewalk sale (which can be your Friday Favourite: sale from 12-6pm!)
Moving on to other favourites. Have you seen that Iceland video? Does it not make you want to put on sweaters, tights, jean shorts and dance your way through Iceland?
Love it. Group trip to dance like dorks through Iceland? Who’s with me?!?
I think I love her outfit because, with the boots, it is total shades of the 1990s – in the awesome My So Called Life kind of way. I want to dress like that and watch Jordan Catalano lean on things. I so wanted to be Angela, but I was probably more of Sharon and that kind of breaks my heart. Or at least makes me less likely to share pictures of my 90s hair with you. This brings me to a thing I thought I’d hate, but do not: Chloe Sevigny for Opening Ceremony.
I mean, I don’t love it all, but it gives me this nostalgic feeling for clothes I owned/wanted to own in 1993. And will still never own because it’s Opening Ceremony and let’s face it folks, I will probably not be shopping at a joint that sells $100 Keds anytime soon. I may, however, get me a pair of the penny loafers she has her name on. Because, well, do I need to justify penny loafers? I can’t tell you how much I loved penny loafers. I was even geeky enough to put a penny in my loafers. (yes, sometimes my teenage self embarasses me too. Like the time she wore a red ribbon in her hair to match her Pearl Jam t-shirt and red all-stars. Good job, teen L-A).
To add to the awesomeness of the collection, it seems that Lesley Arfin was among her models and I am in the middle of reading Arfin’s book Dear Diary, which is full of awkward 90s teen diary entries and interviews with the grown up versions of the people she mentioned in her diary and I’m loving it.
So that’s my Friday. How about you? Got plans for the weekend? If not, pull on a flannel shirt, break out the Buffalo Tom and get yourself some twizzlers and lemonade. Good times my friends, good times.