topamax recreational use

How I got rid of those last ten pounds

When we started this blog for the documentary, I promised myself I would never go more than two weeks without posting. I also promised myself that I would never start a blog post with something lame and apologetic like, Read more

The way you look

I  don't flirt. Ever. Not because I don't know how, but because I just don't like to. Being funny had always been my technique as a server and it was more profitable and less exhausting to maintain than keeping Read more

I believe in Dog

I am selfish and lazy. While I have been working since I was 14 years old and like to think I have spent a fair portion of my life if not in the pursuit of bettering humanity then at least Read more

Gratuity included

It's 2012. I hope I don't need to remind anyone (other than Conservatives and misogynists, if you'll pardon the redundancy) that women are so much more than their looks. We are capable of anything we set our minds to Read more

Parental Guidance Is Advised

A couple of weeks ago, my brother Dan came up for Mum's 75th birthday celebration with his five kids (Paul, 18, Em, 15, Lauren 14, Jon, 12 and Briana, 6), all of whom reminded me of what is was Read more


I stand before you, a sinner. I have broken my word.  I have not practiced what I preached. I have failed! Contrition was a big thing in the 80's. People were always apologizing for something or other and apparently it Read more

Fashion Good

Me and my dress

Posted on by sarahrobertson in Fashion Good, Fundamentals | Leave a comment

I have a tendency to fixate on a piece of clothing, sometimes even a style. The problem with this is that I am incredibly susceptible to influence. Not just any influence though. It has to be consistent and pervasive.

For instance, my mum bought me this great little cotton dress for my birthday. I LOVE IT. It’s comfortable, attractive and it has pockets. I’ve worn it about a hundred times since March. When faced with a “what to wear?” crisis, I will usually don the dress with great confidence.

Growing up, I was a complete tomboy. I had big brothers who were cool and I loved wearing their hand-me-downs. You could not get me into a dress to save your life.

Once I was about fourteen years old, I was able to wear a dress without a fight for my eighth grade graduation, though afterwards it was deposited into my closet without another thought. I actually think it might still be there.

There were only two other dresses that I can remember from my high school years. (Not including costumes for drama class, or dance club)  They were my prom dress and a little red number for a Christmas party. Again, both of which are still in my closet – though I wear the red one about once a year.

University was no different. Read more

I don’t wanna tan, don’t ask me.

Posted on by di in Fashion Good, Project, Psycho-Fashion, Sustainability | Leave a comment

True story: I got stopped by two bike cops on my way to work yesterday morning. I was walking with my parasol. One cop did all the talking, the other hung back for atmosphere pretending to look official and occasionally chuckling.

If you read this conversation out loud I recommend you use thick French Canadian accents for the cops, not just because they were indeed French Canadian but also because it’s fun, non?

Bike Cop #1: Hey it’s not raining today you can put you’re umbrella away.

Me: It’s for the sun. It has a UVB protection liner.

Bike Cop #1: They have sunscreen for that, eh.

Me: Sunscreen gives only partial protection and I don’t want to get cancer. Maybe you should get one.

Bike Cop #1: Nobody’s gonna take me seriously with a parasol!

Me: You mean people take you seriously on the bike?

And then he doubled me on the handlebars down to the station, but alas, it isn’t against the law to be a smartass. Thank god or my entire family would be in the big house.

The cop was right about one thing; being taken seriously. I have been using my sun-brella for a couple of summers now and not a day goes by that some yukster says; “Hey! It’s not raining.” To which I reply;  “You know what you have in common with skin cancer? Neither of you are funny.” One guy actually tried to get under the umbrella with me. He got an elbow to the solar plexus. Read more

Important! Please read especially before you leave your house!

Posted on by di in Fashion Bad, Fashion Good, Read | Leave a comment

A great flowchart our good friend Jess N. alerted us to. Please read carefully and share with those you love.

All dressed with a side of Di

Posted on by di in About, Fashion Bad, Fashion Good, Fundamentals | Leave a comment

How did I come to care so much about clothes? According to my Mum, as early as three years old I had a definite idea about my personal style. She would carefully choose my clothes  in the morning and lay them out for me, but I would come downstairs in a completely different outfit that she would have never thought to put together. She pretty much let me go at that point, realizing that some battles weren’t worth fighting. Once a week she got me into a dress, sadly it was a brown and orange Brownies uniform, but it was a dress, dammit and that’s what mattered. She had been surrounded by boys her whole life, first her brothers, then her sons, so you can’t blame her for wanting a girly-girl. Unfortunately she got me.

Being the only girl in a neighborhood of boys meant that I had no fashion role models. If that weren’t bad enough, I grew up in the Seventies, one of the god-awful worst decades for fashion. Between the swaths of poly-blends and corduroy, and the Cold War colour scheme, it’s not hard to understand why Quaaludes were the drug of choice for the era. If I saw a sorry group of kids dressed like that today I would hastily organize a telethon in their honour.


My awesome "Dukes of Hazzard" shirt made this whale cry… on the inside.

[/twocol]What came next was in some ways worse: the label craze. The Eighties ushered in an era of status icons like Polo, Nike and Esprit.  One had to non-verbally communicate one’s income, because saying it out loud was tacky. However a ten inch neon Gucci symbol on your shirt was not. It’s not hard to understand why cocaine was the drug of choice for this era. My Mum refused to play the label game, “Those designers should be paying you to advertise for them.” So at the age of fourteen I got my first job so I could afford to keep up with the Joneses. But wearing designer clothes didn’t make me stylish, it made me a sheep. Thankfully, I outgrew that trend.
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We’re down with the upcycle

Posted on by di in Fashion Good, Read, Sustainability | Leave a comment

As if you needed another reason to love Colin Firth, his choice of life partner will do.

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