My mom’s Thanksgiving table, lit by the backyard sun.
Flowers from my Grandpa.
Brunch at the Irish Heather. My new, old favourite Gastown haunt.
Stools leading to the Shebeen Whiskey House.
A study of light and absence.
Thank you for leaving work so decisively for your lunch hour and driving like a mad woman to Coco et Olive. There is something so beautiful about knowing exactly what will give you pleasure, reprieve, salvation – and when.
This short americano with 1/4 pack of raw sugar and your hand wrapped around spotless white porcelain are just what you needed. It’s steady, certain and knowing, a kind of love passed to you across so many kitchen tables.
Natural light pours into the cafe and winks at you as if to say so many more beautiful things are in store. Your roasted tomato, goat cheese and basil quiche with side salad is only one of them. The dill is a subtle surprise. Then a homemade two-bite espresso brownie arrives at your table. The icing slips off like silk sheets.
It’s simple to find pleasure when you look for it. Today its been traded for $12.49, food made with care and time to yourself. Your Ikea work desk is not this charming red table with its curvy, vintage legs. Try to remember that. Demand more from your daily menu.
Oh, and please stop eating slimy soup from the troughs at the IGA across from your office. I like you better than that.
Ok, I’ll admit it. This morning I got swept away into the bottomless vortex of wedding invitations. It’s kind of like being at a restaurant with a really long menu. How do they expect anyone to decide? That’s how I always end up with some totally inappropriate menu item, like butter chicken at a pub or Thai stir-fry at White Spot…there are just some places you shouldn’t order international dishes. But given too much choice, reason fails me miserably.
Today, I am going for a work lunch at Gramercy Grill, somewhere I have always wanted to go. I am trying to assess whether it would be terribly weird to pull out my camera and start taking pictures for a review. Probably. Ash says I should just play it by ear, which is his nice way of saying yes. I’ll see what I can do!
The invite above is from Bella Figura.
Have a great weekend,
Sometimes your instincts are just right. For instance, the voice inside me that said, you must go to the Holt Renfrew Beauty Event and, you must buy that $75 dollar brush and, you mustn’t be afraid to ask the La Mer lady for an extra sample.
In fact, all bad life-decisions aside, I’m glad I’ve always been an enthusiastic instinct follower. I was certainly hearing that familair inner-stirring when I bought the Fekkai brush just knowing it would change my life (It did). And I was most definitely tuning in when I chose Yew as our meeting place (we ran into Duran Duran). Even when I passed up that dreamy hand massage from the Chanel man and let Sarah sit down instead, I was listening. Really listening.
Bet you never thought I could wean so much meaning out of a beauty event? Well, I am trying! I had a lot of time to reflect while I stood outside Holt Renfrew in a very long line-up trying to defend against savage line-cutters. Beauty event? Maybe. Pretty sight? No.
Anyways, I’ll leave you with that image. Take a peek at my loot above. I particularly love the Creed sample of Virgin Island Blue. So Cote D’Azur. And the packaging of the Prada sample, even though it gave me a headache.
Oh, let me say this one last thing: I had a great time with Sarah, Kari and Kat. It was a meeting of ladies that was the true reason behind dragging them to a scary sample-fest on a Tuesday night. The free drinks and Opus catering were just a bonus. Who doesn’t love a nice gift with purchase?
Total damage for attendance: $93.67.
Not too bad.
PS: The artsy bookmarks are mine. I thought the whole “beauty montage” above could use a touch of something gritty. I picked them up in San Francisco at Rex Ray Art + Design.
A bound book of Champagne Wednesdays. Each week, a collage telling the story of where the night took us – what I wore, what he said, what we drank, how we ate and why we’ll keep raising a glass to Wednesday again and again.
Here’s how we marked Champagne Wednesday on March 19th…
Good Friday. A good day for adventure. Ash and I headed out to a little coffee place we found off Commercial Street – Little Nest – and found so much more. A wide, white expanse of a café as comfortable as any living room (family and children included).
The occasional toddler-sized pickpocket aside, the coffee was served to our table in white porcelain cups and the food was well-above anything normally labeled “family-friendly.”
I had: shockingly orange organic eggs and buttered multigrain soldiers. Americano.
He had: seedy muesli with cinnamon-yogourt and orange slices. Americano, too.
Total Bill: $17.50 including well-earned tip.
Whiskey waited outside, but got lots of attention…