Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Better words cannot be found to describe the absolute delight of a day that was the Victoria Tweed Ride. Blue skies and a bright spring sun smiled down on a dapper crowd gathered on the lawn of the stately Empress Hotel, a group drawn together by an affinity for the classy suits and frocks of yesteryear and a deep love for that new fangled contraption, the bicycle.

I must confess, although quite immodest of me, that I believed our party to simply be one of the handsomest groups present. After all, our ranks included the elegant Lady Caprice, a respected Professor and, of course, Dingus the loveable scamp.

However, I would be truly remiss to exclude the other wonderfully dressed participants of the Tweed Ride. Three piece suits, elegant hats, fitted coats, beautifully draped frocks, smart handbags, sharp socks and dashing shoes could be seen everywhere one looked! And not to forget the accessories, both practical and decorative in nature, that adorned the bicycles, from wonderfully weathered leather cases to a flapping proud and noble British flag (God save the Queen!). One bicycle even pulled a wicker trunk, from which emitted the jazziest of music to encourage the Tweed Riders along their journey through the streets of Victoria.

The highlight of the Tweed Ride was undoubtedly the tea party held beneath the watchful gaze of stately Craigdarroch Castle, built in the latter years of the 1800s. Riders, flushed from their trip through Victoria’s charming downtown centre and the leafy neighbourhood of Fairfield, spread out blankets to sip Tula Teas and nibble on candied salmon and pickled cucumber sandwiches (crust removed) from Red Fish Blue Fish.

Finally, after a much needed respite in the shade of the oaks surrounding the Castle, the Ride Master’s cry of “Yowza! Yowza! Yowza!” drew us back to our bicycles and we flew back into the city, weaving through James Bay, until we reached the door of the Bard & Banker pub. The Tweed Ride drew to a close over pints and to the good conversation of fine friends, both old and new. A huge huzzah to all of the organizers and supporters! Until next year!

Happy Hallowe’en everyone! I hope y’all put on your finest and went trick or treating. This year we went to Homoween at the Cobalt. It was pretty fun, though there’s always that funny moment the next morning when everyone is like “My favourite part of the night was drinking in the living room and listening to Rhianna on repeat”.

I went as Sailormoon– a life long dream!!– and Jordy went as my dashing Tuxedo Mask. Laura went as Emma Stone’s character in Easy A. Kevin went as Robert “Clever Girl” Muldoon and Ian as a velociraptor from Jurassic Park. I wish I had remembered my choker for my costume! So not canon.

Here are my two favourite other costumes from previous years. The first is Linda Richman aka Coffee Talk from Saturday Night Live and the second (and probably my fave ever for visual impact and ultimate comfort) was an old school wizard. Y’know, just a general asshole wizard, doin’ magic and spells. We all had such amazing costumes in 2007!

 Over the July long weekend (that’s when Canada Day happens, all you non-Canucks) I became a sailor on the good ship Hotel Munchkin, a floating manse that traversed the waters of scenic Shuswap Lake. Protocol on the Hotel Munchkin involved the celebration of the nuptials of Kimberli, sunning, eating, drinking and avoiding the notorious Juice Monks that prowl the lake. In this post (part one of a houseboating extravaganza) I humbly offer some tips on how to make the most out of your own houseboating excursion, should you wish to take one (and you should!).

 1. Choose a sea-worthy vessel. Out of all the houseboats available, Hotel Munchkin was perfect for our needs. We had an elevator! No other boat on the lake had such luxury.

2. Dress for success! If you aren’t wearing a customized sailor cap, a sweater bedazzled in chains and anchors, gold thigh highs or a juanty nautical frock, then you are probably wearing something boring and should get changed immediately.

3. Beware of Juice Monks! These pesky creatures roam the lake in overwhelming numbers. Imagine ships of 10-20 Juice Monks trawling the waters, their minds focussed on one thing only: finding fine ass ladies. Of course, being a ship of Fine Ass Ladies, we were prime targets and being outnumbered by Juice Monk boats 20-1 (not exagerrating), we had to remain strong when our vessel was inevitably boarded by over-friendly neighbours.

4.0 Choose a captain worthy of piloting your ship. Captain Patrice did a stalwart job of manning the illustrious Munchbox, even with her own “baby on board”. With her keen eye for navigation and cool head even in the most critical moments (like docking at Neilson Beach without crashing), she ensured we had smooth sailing the entire weekend.

4.1 Hotel Munchkin is a stupid name for a boat, so if your boat is named Hotel Munchkin, feel free to change it to something better. Like Munchbox.

 5. Binoculars ensure Juice Monks can be spotted well in advance of their inevitable attempt at boarding and also help in finding the best beaches to dock at for the night.

6. Floaties are an essential accessory. Also, breakfast Caesars.

7. Laughing is important. Laughing keeps the Juice Monks away. Also, beer cozies (pronounced “coo-zees”).

 8. Be prepared to embark on missions both dangerous and exhilarating. For example, if the boat parked next to you at the notorious Neilson Beach is adorned with custom made signs, and the best of these signs is hung on the empty second floor of said boat, why not liberate “Dancing Time” for your own? It took only bravura and a few minutes to sneak on board and escape with Dancing Time in tow. With his mysterious Phantom of the Opera mask and come-hither gaze, Dancing Time was well worth the danger of running into drunk Juice Monks or, even worse, JMs who had so many pot brownies they thought they were having a heart attack. Later, after we set him up on the back deck to watch us swim, Dancing Time repaid our adoration by jumping off the boat and escaping when our backs were turned. Typical JM!

9. Ride the slide! Or don’t, if you’re terrified of its alarming angle and velocity. Like me. 

10. Make friends with your neighbours. But only if your neighbour is Lacey, a veteran stripper of 10 years, who is cruising the ‘Swap with a boat full of her stripper friends, who drinks red wine so that it dribbles between her spaciously augmented breasts and wears a self-proclaimed “do-rag”. Revel in the irony of hanging out with strippers at the “quiet beach” while at Neilson Beach all the Juice Monks party with each other.

That last post was meant to be about how much fun I have at Doukhobor Festival every year: wearing a head scarf or platok, the shivery joy of singing in harmony, learning hilarious Russian phrases, learning hilarious Doukhobor phrases that just don’t quite translate into Russian anymore, eating borscht (BC style!), eating pirahi, drinking raspberry juice, saying, “Oy, oy, oy…”, seeing the highest concentration of plump Babushkas in one place outside of Russia, visiting Verigin’s Tomb, visting the Friendship Bridge, singing dreary psalms to a room full of people who actually appreciate it, Cossacks and Maidens, singing around a campfire (in harmony!) and best of all, doing photo shoots with Stenya and Katya (we all have Russian nicknames, I’m Anya on account of my middle name being Anastasia) in full Doukhobor regalia, which includes pastel suits (All handmade! By local “designers”, if you will) and platki and nude hose (just like Kate!).

I felt weird posting these photos without any context. I swear I’m not in some weird Matroyshka cult!

When was the last time you laughed into the night? Drank endless glasses of fine wine without care? Made incredibly witty and profound observations on politics, philosophy and pop culture? Found your radiant good looks merely reflected like a mirror by the equally attractive company of your closest bon amis?

What I’m getting at here is that I have been in solitary confinement for the last three days and I am ready for some  human interaction! I miss everyone. I especially miss these two special people, even if I will never match them in intelligence, looks or genteel social graces. Hope to see y’all soon!

I am very hard on my shoes. We’re talking holes in the soles, scuffed toes, water stains. In particular, the heels of all my shoes are sloped inwards, which would indicate I walk very heavily on the back of my feet. Wouldn’t want to live beneath me.

I’m also very picky about shoes. It took me a loooong time to find my “perfect” boot– something flat-soled with a pointed toe, totally plain and caramel in colour. Add in a set of wider-than-average calves and this ended up being quite the quest. I finally found the pair in my head at a department store in Phoenix, Arizona of all places. A year later I’ve walked a hole right through the bottoms.

Loving these Madewell boots, however. I’m pretty obsessed with fringe (luckily this look is easy to come across even for a casual thrifter like me) and the details and colour are on point. Two big internet purchases in one year… this must be a record.

I spent so much time playing with Anja’s camera when I went to Portland, I think this is the only photo of me from the whole trip.

Good thing I picked a cool focus.

Photo from Clever Nettle.

Anja always sends me amazing packages. Recently she sent me a lovely summery dress from Modcloth and included a vintage postcard of Beacon Hill Park here in Victoria that she found at an Antique Fair. In honour of this, I went to Beacon Hill Park and took some photos in my new dress!

I could never do these photo shoots on a regular basis. It’s too awkward! I don’t know how Anja does it all the time– she’s a real pro! Plus I am cursed with the inability to make a “serious” photo face. I tried to do it once when Anja and I were taking photos at the Grotto in Portland and I kept getting frustrated at how bad the pictures were. We came to the conclusion that I just can’t do it– I always have to smile or look goofy!

Some people are still slogging through snow in other parts of the world, but spring came to Victoria a month ago already. There are streets all around my neighbourhood where the blossoms have come and gone on the trees already and Cook Street, lined with enormous chestnuts, is bright and green.

This was the first ukulele I bought. It’s really crappy and never stays in tune but it’s also purple and sparkles. Looking at this photo now it makes me think of Edward sparkling in the magical field of flowers in Twilight. I hav a really nice one from Hawaii now. I’ve been taking a ukulele class for the last eight weeks or so and Monday night is our recital!

I almost had an embarrassing moment after I took this photo: I was putting away my stuff into my bike basket and was about to ride home and I ran into a girl from my work. I was so glad she hadn’t arrived ten minutes earlier or I would have been posing like a total idiot for the camera. Not to downplay the amazing self portraits most bloggers take!

These strange and expensive Swedish clog sandals are gonna make me do awesome things.

Considering the devastating weakness I have for Victorian Gentle-Scoundrals, making a movie such as “Sherlock Holmes” is bound to produce weak-kneed enthusiasm.

This movie actually returned me to the former throes of my Jude Law era (See: “Enemy at the Gates”, “The Talented Mr. Ripley”, “Gattaca”, “Wilde”) mostly because that man can wear a spry mustache with aplomb.

Sometimes period-movies and TV shows can set off a wave of era-related trends, such as the mid-century modern of the 1960s as a result of “Mad Men” or the fancy trappings of French revolution, as seen in “Marie Antoinette”. If club collars, handlebar mustaches, henleys and suspenders start appears on the streets, I will not complain.

The Pilau, upon exiting the theatre remarked, “I think I need more tweed in my life.” I hastily agreed. (I think he’s more of a Watson.)

(Robert Downey Jr’s comedic timing has put “Chaplin” on my to-watch list.)