crystalized

I'm a winter baby. I'm a Canadian. I'm a part-time unicorn. (the latter may be somewhat of an exaggeration...) Sounds like a recipe for a WINTER LUVUHH (lover), RIGHT?! Actually, contrary to stereotypes, Winter makes me want to vomit sunshine and inhale blue skies. Yes, Winter, that's right. I ain't a fan.

However - yes, that all important HOWEVER makes its appearance - I was ridiculously excited when I awoke to a blanket of sparkles! The first snow fall is always, always the most magical. Especially when the weather has been freezing for years (okay days) and snowless. For all of those who aren't lucky enough to live in igloos and ride to school on polar bears, here's some winter-y photos for your enjoyment!

Evidently, the sibling and I dorked out and took self-timers in our winter gear. This a real testament to our, uh, awesomeness?


I'm extremely aware that I'll be cursing the snow in, say, a day when my feet are inundated with wetness and my tights clash with my jacket. But for now, I'm thanking Mother Nature for her magic that falls from the sky (yes, I'm also aware that there's a science behind this "magic" but that is precisely why I dropped science. I happen to like magic)...

Here's to a sparkly winter, vintage layers and lots of hot coco! (Also, good marks on my midterms, but that will go in brackets to make me feel better for not studying yet. at all. ah ah ahh, freak out, think winter, yay.)

I absolutely love this season! Santa was at the mall and I was thisclose to getting a picture with him (THEY'RE FREE) but I refrained my inner-child and merely stared and smiled at all the ecstatic children like the creeper I am (not. that didn't happen...). Also, the sibling and I set up the tree on Saturday. It's fairly heinous. I don't think I'll post pictures. Let's just say sibling wanted "modern" and I wanted "traditional." We decided to compromise. Compromises aren't always the best solution. But whatever, it has heart. (And my rubber Santa toy as the star, YES.)

What are your plans for the holidays? Distract me with family traditions and OTHER FUN JAZZ so I have some hardy reading to do for procrastination.
xxxx

chchchcherry bomb

You know those characters that exist in movies and shows and books that just don’t exist in real life? You really, really want them to as they’d be super awesome, entertaining and/ or awkward? But they just DON’T exist? And you know the really enthusiastic one that smiles at everyone/thing and might as well be giving gold stars? And you always think “Man, no one is that joyous in real life”? (If you answered ‘yes’ to all these questions, then try out…!)(that was supposed to be a mockery of an advertisement.)

Actually, I know one of these always smiling/ encouraging/ doyoureallyexistinreallife? characters. Enter my grade 10 Careers teacher, who also doubled as a guidance counselor. Yes, a great combination for some feel-good “If you can dream it, you can do it!” One of the tasks we had to do in was create a “Brag Sheet.” (Not sure how that was significant to my future…) It’s exactly how you’d picture it: a sheet where you simply brag about yourself. No, I’m not going to share mine. Ever. But here’s one thing I’ll brag about.

Brag: (in a nonchalant, cool way. obviously.) Painted this chair for a school fundraiser and it sold for $2400 (!!!!)



At the time, I wanted to murder this chair for consuming my life – both physically AND emotionally. (Okay, maybe not emotionally. Or physically. But it makes me sound INTENSE. And dramatic. AND INTENSE.)

Actually, I still do want to murder it. Nicely. Maybe through poison and evil snakes rather than straight up burnin’? I think it would be effective. While I adore Roy Lichenstein, I’m inspired to never do his project related to him again. Never. Ever.



“The inspiration for this chair came from the works of iconic pop artist, Roy Lichenstein. Reaching both national and international fame in the 1960s, he was one of the frontrunners in the pop art movement. Lichenstein honed a truly distinctive style, which was associated with words like unique, bold, fresh and energy – adjectives that this chair strives to embody. Several elements of this piece, such as the flat, bright colours, the comic-esque figures, and the words denoting sound were all inspired by the characterized style of Lichenstein. The plethora of quotes that fill the centre of this chair are ones that students and staff labeled as their “favourite quote.” From Albert Einstein to German phrases, this chair inhabits an accumulation of beautiful and inspirational words from, literally, around the world. Artist Lexy hopes that you enjoy this piece!”

"If you want to be happy, be" - Samuel Levenson.
(My life motto. Fo realz. Yo.)

Anyways, enough about me. We get it, I’m awesome (kidding, kidding). Therefore…
BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF.
You know, it has been scientifically proven that those who brag more lead a longer and more content life. Score? I KNOW.
(That is a lie. However, it was purposefully constructed to 1) make you feel unguilty for any feelings of narcissism that may fall upon you 2) trick you into bragging. Pretend you fell for it. Or send me some sympathy brags for my efforts to get you to brag. Basically, if you don't brag, you SUCK. Kidding, of course...)

intergalactic fortress

Don't you love surprises? My all-time favourite surprise was when someone gave me a surprise party! ZOMG! Just kidding. That never happened. However, I've always wanted one. Therefore, THROW ME A SURPRISE PARTY?! I think I will just marry you on the spot. On Facebook. Obviously legit.

I'm sidetracked. Back on track: feelings of being surprised inundated me when I wore these pants to school and they were really well received. Not sure why. I guess they really suit me. Because, you know, I'm thug and hard core and so forth and dawwwwg. BANG! (However, I could be reading compliments wrong and remarks were actually sarcastic, not heartfelt as perceived. Hey, I'm like the Internet when it comes to sarcasm! I just can't tell... Er, great analogy, Lexy... (that was sarcasm?! Could you tell?! NO, IT'S HARD!)

I'm madly in lurvvvve with these pants. I wasn't going to buy them at first, but the lady said "oh, I love those pants!" whilst I approached the check-out line of the change rooms. In a swift motion, I slid them to my other pile deemed "things I'm going to buy" and with my air of cool (obviously), said, "Ahhhh, yes, well, I always knew I was going to buy them..." (Optional: imagine that line in a french accent to accentuate air of "cool.")



I wore these pants to an art trip in "the Big Smoke" aka Toronto. If you didn't get that Toronto = the Big Smoke, that's okay. I don't get it either. My teacher recently said that. I thought it was weird. So yeah. Great story? OH YEAHHH.


BUT OH MY WORD. Graffiti galore! I felt like I was in some amazing Dr. Seuss book, but instead of being surrounded by Green Eggs and Ham and Cats and Hats, it was GRAFFITI. To quote the doc himself, "Oh the places you'll go..." (MOST OVERUSED GRADUATION SPEECH QUOTE EVER. Just sayin')

(Blazer - Value Village $7, Denim Shirt - Mum's, Pants - Vancouver Consignment Store $8, Shoes - Salvation Army $7, Bag - Value Village $10ish, Belt - Thrifted $1, Necklace - Aldo)

Isn't graffiti AMAZING?! Back in Middle School when my kilt was down to below my knees and my socks were up beyond my knees (i.e. the good ole' fashion "unintentionally looks like I'm wearing tights" effect), I was so anti-graffiti. Graffiti struck me as an ugly, gangster mess - adjectives that I also associated with the likes of tattoos. However, as timed progressed and LA Ink became my lover, I recognized the beauty in both graffiti and tattoos. There's an incredible amount of workmanship and visionary behind these mediums, proving that they really are credible as art forms.

It's fascinating examining art's progression to so many mediums. On one level, it's a little disturbing to think that anything that's deemed "unconventional" or "semi-creative" hast he potential to give itself the label of "art." On the other hand, it's like, why shouldn't we all hold hands and eat out of a giant art cake?! Let's spread the love (and the nonexistent art cake)! Art's insane and ambiguous and beautiful and controversial and interesting and that's why I freaking love all of it - and why the whole world should join in.

HEY YOU,
How would you define art?

boom boom boom

Bonjour, mes amis! Oh! Right, I - I mean, Hello, my friends! Phew! Did you see that? Did you see how I accidentally spoke French to you? I'm obviously far too sophisticated and je-ne-sais-quoi for you petits amis, er, I mean little friends.

Now, I know what many of you are thinking: Lexy, you are by far the coolest. I mean, I always knew you were sophisticated and filled with je-ne-said-quoi, but this is uncanny. Please, oh please tell me how you got just oh-so French? I will respond with a modest chuckle, some pink flush will enter my cheeks and finally I will let out a whisper that goes along the lines of that's because I was in Montreal this weekend! (hehe.)

Yes, 'tis true. I spent four glorious days in the beautiful city of Montreal for a Model UN conference where I discovered that 1) I will never, ever be able to survive the real UN as I can't debate for my dear life (but that's okay, my mommy says I'm special) 2) I love big cities 3) I love french accents 4) I love meeting people 5) I really freaking love big cities.


I wore this outfit today. Today, I wore this outfit. Today, I walked around my boring town, went to Second Cup, went to the dentist (that's a whole other issue that I'm not going to get into), went to Value Village, and walked around my boring town. Walking around my boring, itsy bitsy town emphasized just how much I love big cities; there's such a difference in pace and atmosphere that makes me want to digest worms and pull out teeth while I'm here (in my boring town). So to speak, my hatred towards my town has been reemphasized. If you didn't already establish that.


I guess there's something about big cities that's so exciting! Maybe it has to do with being young. If so, I want to be young forever and ever and ever (like my grade 6 summer reading) (okay maybe not). Being able to look at the skyline and the big buildings and the excessive hipsterzzz and just sigh of happiness is just fabulous. It's decided: I'm infatuated with big cities. I want to draw hearts in my notebook with our initials together, whilst blasting some Taylor Swift. (datz truuu luv)


(Jacket - Value Village $8, Dress - Thrifted $30, Shoes - Salvation Army $8, Scarf - Pashmina/ Gift, Tights - Pacific Mall, Accessories - Assorted)

Infatuation is good. I think. Or maybe I just like the word infatuation. Which is valid. (Other favourite words: serendipity, frothy, and percolate. Put all three in a sentence and I will kiss a frog and give you the prince charming.) But the feeling of "ahhhh" (as in a sigh of content, like when you have a big mug of hot chocolate, not as in an "ahhhh" of ZOMGZOMBIEZ (or something)) is fantastic. You know? When your heart is content, at least for a moment. And your lips are smiling, even at nothing in particular. I am to big cities as my Facebook friends are to Harry Potter. (That's a terrible analogy, but I wanted to add this so I would be able to say: GAH I'M GETTING SICK OF HARRY POTTER-RELATED STATUSES) (which might emphasize the ridiculousness of my analogy but shush...)

In conclusion, I love the world so much. But if there was a part that I didn't love as much as the others, it would be my itsy, bitsy, boring town. But, you know, I still love it. Kind of... uh...

Au revoir! *kiss on this cheek, kiss on the other cheek*
What are you currently infatuated with?

skinny marinki dinki dink

Friends, friends, friends. We need to talk. HEY WHAT'S UP?! HOW'S LIFE?! DID YOU EVER HAVE A GUINEA PIG?! Yadda, yadda, yay. Sorry, this scattered conversation is supposed to mimic the scattered-ness of my life. Fortunately, I'm gallivanting/ Model UN-ing in Montreal this weekend, so this shall act as a good escape. I need an escape.

Also, I need more time. And more outfit pictures. These aren't outfit pictures or, more accurately, what is traditionally labeled as "outfit pictures." Unconventional not-so outfit pictures perhaps? Perhaps, but likely not. Nonetheless, enjoy these pictures of the sibling in a tulle dress I made over a year ago and photographed this summer and NEVER POSTED. Gasp at my tardiness on everything that could be deemed tardy! I'm not making sense... (Actually, I did post this dress once, kind of, way back in the good ole days. Awesome points if someone can resurrect said post?)

Photography/ Styling/ Dress - Me (Lexy)
Model/ Hair/ Make-up - Sibling (Mimi)






Enjoy my dumplings. I never call you dumplings. Cherish this moment, please. What has been sparking your creativity lately? Send me links of inspiration, dumplings. (Again?! Oh my! Cherish!)

P.S. If you looked at those rosettes and thought to yourself, "Well, hey now, making rosettes could be dandy!" then you win the 50 million dollar lottery. Well, not really, but pretty darn close.
P.P.S. I don't understand why lotteries are so high. (In terms of monetary values, that is.) I think it'd be much wiser to distribute $50 million dollars among 2 people, or 5 people, or 50 people, or 200 people. OH YOU, WORLD. So silly.

2.0 i'm made of plastic, it's fantastic

I didn't lie to you all. THE BARBIE CLOTHES WILL KEEP ON COMING. In a few weeks time, you're brain will be exploding with miniature attire; so much that you'll be unsatisfied with your life until the day you BECOME Barbie! Except for this is the second last post. Out of three posts. But that is an irrelevant detail...

See the background? I HAND PLEATED THAT MELLOW YELLOW GOODNESS. Kidding! Gosh, I'm just full of over-exaggerated fun today! The background is, in fact, a dress of mine. It's only been on the blog once. WHO WILL FIND SAID DRESS?! Who loves me the most?! Who has the most time to go through my summer archives to find the post?! Who's even reading this?!


As you all know, I love mixing prints. So Barbie does, too. Because we're the same person! No, no we're not.

(Barbie is wearing clothes made by me)

Hope you enjoyed seeing how lacklustre my life is. I kid. These were made in the summer. Way back when I didn't have a life. Now? Now I really don't have a life. So much that I don't even have time for these kind of things that prove that I don't have a life. I miss it.

Entertain me. What's something about YOU that most human beings are unaware of? (i.e. Fun Fact regarding... yourself!) I feel like this is a good conversation starter, so maybe I'll come up with a list of things for when someone greets me with this question. Because that happens frequently. Well, that COULD happen frequently. And I'm preparing you for that day. YOU'RE WELCOME.

double double toil and trouble

Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it. Unfortunately, I didn't know about the slut rule so I came to school looking like this...

Typical conversation:
Person: Oh, uh, hey Lexy. What are you?
Wait. Let me start that again...
Person: WHAT ARE YOU?!
Me: A haunted toy box. DUH.

So yes, there you have it, this past Halloween I decided to be awesome and dress up like a haunted toy box. I was often inundated with questions such as: "What are you?" "What's that?" and the occasional (by that, I mean one), "Are you a pet cemetery?!"

Allow me to explain the evolution of my outfit in the form of thought bubbles prior to the Wednesday Costume Day.
Monday evening: Hmm, a garbage can might be fun...
Tuesday morning: I've never been anything scary... Ooh, how about a HAUNTED garbage can?
Tuesday evening: [after hours of searching] No garbage cans with cut-able bottoms exist. I'm not impressed with the high-quality of garbage these days.
Tuesday (again) evening: Hmm. Why not be a haunted toybox?! [invades dollar store and childhood toys]
Tuesday (later evening): [makes haunted toybox]
Tuesday (even later evening): [completes haunted toybox]
Wednesday morning: [comes to school]


If you fail to comprehend the concept of "haunted toybox," here's the low-down: picture childhood toys RESURRECTED FROM THE DEAD. Mwahahah... Basically a true story.

I love Halloween. Am I too old for trick-or-treating? Definitely. Did I go anyways? DEFINITELY. Did I go trick-or-treating with my sister and her friends? Um, no comment. (In regards to the latter of the questions, this situation can be twisted to emphasize my awesomeness. Why? Because my LITTLE sibling wasn't going to go trick-or-treating because the LITTLE 'un felt "too old." Fortunately, I convinced her - yes, I realize the major reversed role situation - and she, in turn, convinced her LITTLE friends. Obviously I am a role model for the young and cool.)

Rest assured that Halloween is my favourite holiday and child obesity is a growing problem.
How was YOUR Halloween? What did you go as? Favourite Halloween moment EVER?!

P.S. How much do you want to steal one of those adorable babies that go around grasping on their parental's hand and squealing TRICK-OR-TREAT (or, in my case, shield their eyes and cry. Kidding.)? I wanted to stuff one in my bag and eat 'er up...