Unofficial Fashion Quiz

The other day I picked up the mail in our teeny tiny condo mailbox. I was hoping that someone/anyone would send us a cheque for something/anything. Sadly, there wasn't a cheque in the mail, but there was a magazine....

Fashion.

Fashion? That's odd. I never subscribed to Fashion and I doubt Wendy did either. The addressee of the magazine was indeed Wendy, so rather than tossing it into the recycle bin, I took it upstairs. I then went about my business in the condo: cooking, cleaning, painting, guitaring, etc. As it was a foul weather day, I spent more time indoors than usual. Eventually I ran out of things to do so I picked up the god damned Fashion mag and started leafing through it.

Appalled.

I'm not one to be shocked by anything, but let me just say that I was horrified by the frivolity of the fashion business. It made me wonder what the purpose of fashion really is. Is it to make one's self attractive in order to find (and keep) a mate? Was it to dress exactly like the models in order to appear like a truly unique one-of-a-kind individual? Is it to mask a lack of intelligence or depth of character? Or, was it for the owners of the cosmetics companies to make money from stupid and insecure people? I'm not sure.

Did you know that Toronto Fashion Week is from March 17-21. Did you know that March 17-21 doesn't actually constitute a week? Does this somehow say something about the fashion business?

Dr.Varty, can we have a little fun with fashion and not analyze it like a science? How about a fashion quiz?

Okay, that's what we'll do with today's blog. We'll have a fashion quiz! You may have noticed that I've numbered the images in today's blog image, one through sixteen. Take a sheet of paper at home and write down the numbers 1 through 16. Then, from my list below, choose the best response for each image and jot down the letter that best corresponds to the numbered picture. Got it? Good! Here goes.....

a) My mom, who's colour blind and an albino, just got a sewing machine and makes all my clothes.

b) I have a jaw like a lantern, so I use excessive eye make-up to draw the eye away from my chin.

c) Yes, I was necking with a chalkboard. What's your point?

d) My dad is Howard Dill and I just came in from the pumpkin patch.

e) Lipstick on a piglet?

f) The missing Jackson sister?

g) Though I'm young and pretty, I prefer to dress like a dowager.

h) My dad was Greek and my mom a Romulan.

i) I have a fear of orthodontists. 

j) With this hairdo, he'll find me irresistible (more bangs for your buck!).

k) I think I'll wear a great big giant dollop of whipped cream to Ascot this year.

l) I take my fashion lead from the Great Gazoo (or...does this helmet make my ass look big?).

m) Lipstick? Of course....not! My lips are just a natural shade of red.

n) I hate my job, which happens to be modeling a dead skunk frock, zebra collar and coconut shell cap.

o) The weed whacker is in the tool shed. I'll be right there and you can trim my hair.

p) I am a model. I am an actress. I am bilingual. Et j'adore Dior.

Juxtaposition: Condo Hottie Version

No Photoshop here, just a curious juxtaposition of image and text. Cropping can lead to strange bedfellows, not that these are fellows in bed.

In the big picture, which you can't see, this is part of a barricade/wall that forms the perimeter of a new condo project near Yonge Street. Instead of a wire fence, there is a plywood wall festooned with images of condo life, and the number to call if you have any issues related to construction.

Seems like an odd image to depict condo life, at least it would be in my building (wink, wink), but this is Yonge Street where anything goes. Anyways, if you're interested in a condo where good looking women lay around in swimwear, call 416-966-5414, ext.288.

What The Hell Is That Noise? I Smell Haggis!

Imaginary conversation between me and Me Mootha....

Ian: Mom, look! There's a wee manny playing the bagpipes!!

Mootha: Auch aye. He's a strappin' wee manny. Do you think he's got any money?

Ian:  He does now.

I really wanted to call this blog 'The Battle Of Scotland' because it was the ultimate showdown. On one side of the battle was yours truly...a pence pinching, half Scot who feels the world is out to empty his sporran. On the other side....a kilt wearin', bagpipe blower who's got his case open, looking for donations.

It really was a battle royal. This Scot hates to give money. The other Scot wants you to give him your money. In the end I caved and gave him $5, but not without requesting a tune and getting it (i.e. value for money). I mentioned to the piper that my mother was a Gordon from Aberdeen, and asked if he had a song for her. He played Bonnie Dundee, one of the Gordon Highlander 'go to' songs. 

This brief moment with the bagpiper was the highlight of my day, although I did have some excitement earlier that morning when a car almost hit me at a crosswalk (I had right of way). Summoning my inner rhino, I managed to smack the car when it went by, it was that close! The driver beeped his/her horn at me. I sharpened mine.

Mama 'Had' A Squeezebox: Part One

Take a look at this accordion...it's the last time you'll see it (this particular one). It was built in Italy in the 1950s or 1960s and it's in mint condition except.....

It smells mouldy. The two times Wendy played it she got wheezy afterwards. Mould, my dear readership of three and a half, is bad stuff. In an accordion, it's very bad stuff...almost impossible to get rid of, or so my research tells me.

I didn't notice the mouldy smell when I bought the accordion, but I didn't try it out myself because, well, I can't play the accordion. The accordion was demoed for me and it worked like a dream. Sounded glorious.

After I bought the accordion for Wendy, I bought her a book to help get her started. The book had a section on buying used accordions. I quote: "If you open the case and it smells musty, run away. This accordion has not been played in a while and that smell is mold. It will be impossible to get rid of it." My internet searches confirmed this information.

I bought the accordion from someone I know and he is dedicated to teaching music and making music. He's more than willing to take the accordion back because he isn't interested in impeding the making of music. Far from it. Sadly I am going to have to return it. Also, on a positive note, Wendy is quite taken by the accordion so now we'll have to find her another. It's been a positive experience and educational, albeit with one big bump in the road. If I've learned one thing when buying, or trying to buy, used instruments, it's buyer beware. There is a lot that can go wrong and the more knowledge you have going in, the better off you'll be to make a wise purchase.

It's neither earth friendly nor economical to always buy new instruments. In many instances a newer instrument may be fresh and shiny but not nearly as well made as a vintage instrument. Everything in life seems to be a trade-off or quandary. Perhaps I'll write a poem about the quandary of life.

Perhaps? Perhaps?? You know you're going to write one, so get it over with, Ian.

Okay...

My clothes they were suite smelling,
Of this, too you, I'm tellling,
To get them so, no quandry,
For daily do I laundary,
And worry knot for spelling.

Balcony Fluff

Yesterday Wendy and I walked to our nearest Home Depot store, 3.6 kilometres away from our condo, and we purchased two patio chairs and a table. Since we haven't got a patio, we put them on our deck which is actually a balcony.

The chairs are made by the Martha Stewart company for Home Depot. I wouldn't normally support Martha Stewart but I felt a little charity was in order as she tries to rebuild her life after jail time. Also, it occurred to me that she probably learned how to weave wicker while doing hard labour in the prison shop, so I'm hopeful she honed her skills there and then passed on her knowledge to the people of China.

To Martha's credit, the assembly of the chairs was well illustrated in the instructions, the tools supplied were of excellent quality, and all of the parts were clearly labeled. I'd give her ten out of ten for this....a rare honour bestowed upon few.

I think Wendy and I are officially done shopping for the condo. There is nothing left to buy, and nowhere to put it even if we did. My work is done...I can die now.

Umm, not quite yet, big boy. The bathroom needs cleaning.

Sigh.

Birthday Cake, Not By Duncan Hines

I suppose I should show what Neil's birthday cake looked like. It was truly one-of-a-kind, though perhaps more appropriate for Benny Hill than Neil. The doll in the picture goes by the name of Urbania, sounds like a name Donald Trump would give to one of his legitimate daughters, at least once depleting all the usual names: Tiffania, Vancleefia and/or Arpelia, Cartieria, or Vuittonia.

I bought Urbania at the Dollarama store, but she was no one dollar tramp. She was $1.25. High class. She was the belle of the ball, I would say.

The cake itself was of the genus and species Carota delishica, made by Wendy. The recipe came from the Rebar cookbook. The icing was better than normal carrot cake icing, in my non-grumble opinion. It had cream cheese (sorry, JNV) and white chocolate (hello Ian!) in it. The cake itself was 'moist and delicious™', thanks to pineapple and coconut (and not Duncan Hines). The term 'moist and delicious' is a slogan or catch-phrase popularized by the Duncan Hines company, and kept alive today by people like me.

Duncan Hines....who the hell was he, anyway? We all know the name Duncan Hines, but do we know anything other than the name? It's an interesting story as to how the Duncan Hines brand became ubiquitous. If you're interested, here it is (from Wikipedia). It's an interesting look into how a business or brand gets built...

Hines was born in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Working as a traveling salesman for a Chicago printer, by age 55 in 1935, Hines had eaten a lot of good and bad meals on the road all across the US. At this time in the United States, there was no interstate highway system and only a few chain restaurants, except for those in large, populated areas. Therefore, travelers depended on getting a good meal at a local restaurant.

Hines and his wife, Florence, began assembling a list for friends of several hundred good restaurants around the country. The list became so popular that he began selling a paperback book, Adventures in Good Eating (1935), which highlighted restaurants and their featured dishes that Hines had personally enjoyed in locations across America.

One such listing in the 1939 edition read:

Corbin, KY.   Sanders Court and Café
41 — Jct. with 25, 25 E. ½ Mi. N. of Corbin. Open all year except Xmas.
A very good place to stop en route to Cumberland Falls and the Great Smokies. Continuous 24-hour service. Sizzling steaks, fried chicken, country ham, hot biscuits. L. 50¢ to $1; D., 60¢ to $1

The book proved so successful that Hines added another which recommended lodging. In the late 1940s and early 1950s, Hines wrote a newspaper food column, Adventures in Good Eating at Home, which appeared in newspapers across the US three times a week (on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday). The column featured restaurant recipes, adapted for home cooks, that he had collected during his nationwide travels.

In 1952, Duncan Hines introduced Duncan Hines bread to the world through the Durkee's Bakery Company of Homer, New York. Principals Michael C. Antil Sr., Albert Durkee, and Lena Durkee were the bakery proprietors. This was Duncan Hines' first foray into baked goods. By 1953, Hines sold the right to use his name and the title of his book to Roy H. Park to form Hines-Park Foods, which licensed the name to a number of food-related businesses. The cake mix license was sold to Nebraska Consolidated Mills in Omaha, Nebraska, which developed and sold the first Duncan Hines cake mixes. In 1957, Nebraska Consolidated Mills sold the cake mix business to the US consumer products company Procter & Gamble. The company expanded the business to the national market and added a series of related products.

My gawd, is there nothing that Proctor & Gamble doesn't get their greasy little oven mitts on? In 2012, Proctor & Gamble had sales of  $83.68 billion. I'll wash my blog free of Proctor & Gamble's facts, figures and controversies for the moment (using Tide, a P&G brand), but perhaps air their dirty laundry in another blog. At some point I'd like to address their supposedly satanic logo.....a moist and delicious story for another day.

Our Friend Neil Turns 50

We threw a small party for our dear friend Neil who turned 50 yesterday. Those present at the party were as follows: Peter  T., Robert K., Patrick R., Dan T., Wendy N. et moi, Ian V. The 'presence' of Eleanor M. was also felt....in a supporting role.