I picked up as many pairs as I could carry in my arms to the cash. Nordic socks from Old Navy. Colourful, Skandihoovian… perfect… until you try to put them on your feet. (movie trailer announcer voice) In a world where quirky fashion puts its foot forward, Heather thought she’d hit pay dirt. Will her…
I fucked it all up last January. That was when I had a sore throat that turned into the flu, that turned into bronchitis which knocked me on my ass for about two months and instead of pushing through as I usually would, I actually rested. Mostly on account of the fact that after walking…
You wake up in the morning and do the zombie shuffle to the bathroom. The light goes on; your ill-prepared eyes close – too much light, too soon. Your pasty mouth makes a smasking sound as you open and close it, you wonder what crawled in to die overnight. You stick out your tongue, making sure…
“Not cool! This is NOT cool!” I exasperate. “What? What is it?” David responds. “I peed my pants FIVE times today while coughing!!!” “Oh hon… You’ll do better tomorrow… Tomorrow you can make it to six!” “Do NOT make me laugh.” I have already crossed my thighs in preparation for any laugh leakage. David and…
I’ve never been a real eyeshadow kind of gal. My eyelid landscape is less pastoral and more one bedroom walk-up. Sure, in my late teens, I went all out with the blue eyeliner and shadow, but lately, I’ve stuck mostly to some eyeliner on my upper lids. If I’m heading out for something fancy, something…
Lifting the straps wasn’t helping. Why not? Lifting the straps always helps. The band just seems to… What the? I’m in the office bathroom. I lift my shirt and present my back to the mirror. The whole left side of the brassiere band is… torn?? How much pressure are my tatas putting on this brassiere?…
Nothing like a barium swallow to get you in the mood. “Shirt, pants, bra… OFF. Leave only your panties.” The nurse hands me two hospital gowns. “One on the front, one on the back.” She turns to leave. “Oh… you can keep your socks on.” “What about my boots?” I joke. I point to…
“Two piece or one piece?” “Are you going to need to pee at any time during the day?” asks Rissa. The thought of having to visit a public washroom while attempting to drag down a wet, clingy (to the point of achieving adhesion to my body), one-piece swimsuit, makes me shudder. “Point taken. Two piece…
“Are they going to fit in?” “I’m trying to make them,” says Rissa. “I swear to you that these breasts were not this large in June.” “I think you might be right.” “What is going on?!?” “I don’t know, Mummy.” Rissa huffs, as she places her knee in my back to gain leverage. “You can’t…
When you find pants that fit you perfectly – the pair that turns your derriere into the Holy Grail of asses – the pair that makes your ankles look edible – those pants – you buy those in bulk. Retro style cigarette pants. Just above the ankle. Audrey Hepburnesque. My version of the cigarette pant…