Category Archives: Fashion

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Goodbye, Dolly Edition

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I am rarely, if ever, affected by celebrity deaths. Usually I am surprised, as I frequently think the celebrity in question was already deceased, although sometimes I feel great shock and sadness at the cause of death, such as that of Rob Reiner or Phil Hartman. I was greatly affected by the death of Princess Diana and then later of Queen Elizabeth II, and I was sad to hear of the passing of Alice Munro. Generally, though, I feel fairly detached when I hear of the passing of someone famous, but I was deeply saddened to hear about Dolly Parton.

Dolly Parton brought so much joy and goodness into the world; not only did she have the voice of an angel, but she had the demeanour of one as well. She did so much for so many, particularly with regards to improving children’s literacy and education. By all accounts she was a woman full of love for all; she was quoted as saying The Holy Ghost is that part of God that lives in everybody, and the way you sin against it is by not loving everybody with all your heart, for exactly who they are. Isn’t that beautiful?

I’ve always liked the saying that a woman at twenty has the face she was born with, and at forty she has the one she deserves. I think women, as they age, become more beautiful when they have a beautiful soul; their aura shines through. Their beauty comes from the inside out! But sometimes, I like to think of beauty going from the outside in.

What I mean is that I always feel like I’m my best self when I put effort into my outward appearance. I grew up in a house in which vanity was a flaw to be overcome, and I really do think that song is about me, so I have a little bit of low-level shame about my fixation on my appearance. As I have gotten older, I have become more and more comfortable with my own vanity and the importance my appearance plays in my life. I don’t care about looking nice for other people, I want to look nice for ME, and I don’t feel like my best self when I don’t look my best.

I think this is one of the reasons I love Dolly so much. She had a rich inner life AND she leaned in to her looks. She worked hard and donated massively to charity and meant so much to people, and she looked fabulous while doing it. Another quote: My joke of, ‘It costs a lot of money to look this cheap’ ‒ that’s so true because I like to look a certain way. I can’t just put on a little bit of makeup and think I look good because I don’t look good with a little bit of makeup. I like to wear a lot of makeup. It fits my personality. Even if somebody says, ‘Oh God, she was so over-made.’ Well, if it fits me then I’m going to make everybody around me happy because I’m going to feel good myself. Never have I related to something so much. One can be a serious person and also enjoy frivolities at the same time. Being sparkly doesn’t mean being stupid. Working on one’s outer beauty does not preclude working on one’s inner beauty.

This month’s Favourite Things is dedicated to glorious, glamourous Dolly.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Goodbye, Dolly Edition

Maybe She’s Born With It, Maybe It’s Maybelline

Like Dolly, I don’t like to wear a little makeup, I like to wear a lot of makeup, every day. This is especially true of mascara.

There are areas in my life where I like to splurge, but mascara isn’t one of them. I go through a tube a month and so I prefer a less-expensive drugstore brand. My favourite – and it’s been my favourite for YEARS – is Maybelline’s Surreal Falsies. It builds nicely, doesn’t clump, and I don’t feel bad if I go through it quickly.

I also love Maybelline’s Express Brow, which is essentially a mascara, but for eyebrows. It covers up the wiry white eyebrow hairs and patchiness that are part of my life now.

Love The Skin You’re In

I honestly think that laugh lines are very beautiful, and I also have deep forehead wrinkles and marionette lines from a lifetime of smiling, laughing, and raising my eyebrows. No regrets! What can I say, I’m a “facey” person with a lot of expression, and my visage really did freeze that way. Nevertheless, I do like to use night creams, not to erase those lines – that’s too tall an order for a mere lotion – but to soften, smooth, and hydrate.

I was standing in line at the Costco pharmacy, waiting to pick up my husband’s medications. I am trying not to look at my phone while waiting for things, and so I glanced around at the people around me, peeking into their carts and wondering about their lives. What are they doing with all that cheese? I’ll wonder. To my left was a long aisle of beauty products. Here’s the thing about buying beauty products at Costco: it’s a gamble, and a very tempting one. Everything is so economical and also so GIANT. I have found myself saddled with massive amounts of product that was wrong for me, which is wasteful and makes me regret my life choices. But there I was, in a very slow-moving line filled with elderly people filling prescriptions, beside all sorts of untried and promising products. I kept glancing at them. Minutes ticked by. I AM NOT MADE OF STONE.

I ended up with a two-pack of Cerave Skin Renewing Eye Cream and a THREE-pack of ROC Correxion Cream. It was a gamble, but one that paid off. I love both of these products, and, as a bonus, Wirecutter chose the Cerave as its recent number one pick for eye creams! Now, let’s hope they are back at Costco by the time I run out of them, which will be many months from now.

Nailed It

Until I was about 23 years old, I was a terrible nail-biter. Now that I’m not, I like to keep polish on them at all times to keep from reverting to bad habits. I have had three professional manicures in my life, and one of those was a gel manicure. That lasted several weeks without chips, but the downside is that it kind of wrecked my nails. I always get gel pedicures, so I don’t know what the difference was, but my fingernails were so weak and prone to splitting post-gel-manicure that I never got one again. Instead, I use Sally Hansen Miracle Gel polish, which lasts about a week before chipping, can be removed with regular polish remover, and doesn’t destroy my nails.

I love the look of dark nail polish – my toenails are always, always red – but I find that a light, natural colour is more forgiving in the chip department. I don’t know how one gets a job naming nail polish, but I wish it was mine. The colour I like is All Chiffon The World.

A Hair Affair

Recently my gorgeous friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked if my hair was naturally curly, and the answer to that is: not really. But it’s not straight, either. It’s more like weirdly inconsistent beach waves. Here is what it looks like wet:

And then this is with blow-drying:

Suffice it to say that it needs a little help, and so I love my curling iron. About a year ago I splurged on a fancy, expensive one, and I have never looked back.

It takes 5-10 minutes to curl my entire head of hair, depending on my precision and mood.

Then I gently comb it out, using a wide-tooth comb or my fingers.

I suppose I could blow-dry it straight, the way every hair stylist always does for me, but the truth is I don’t like the way it looks. My hair is so fine that it looks kind of flat and flyaway, and so I prefer the curls. I only wash my hair every three days, so it generally just needs a touchup or a bun on non-wash days.

It doesn’t take an eagle-eyed reader to notice the white roots! I don’t know when, if ever, I am going to allow my hair to go natural, because wow, does that feel like a process. At this rate, I’ll be the little orange haired lady in The Home. I started colouring my own hair during the pandemic and I never looked back, except to be low-level horrified by the amount of money I spent at salons for two decades. My current favourite is L’Oreal, and I am toying with the idea of going back to the chocolate brown of my youth. We’ll see!

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

As you may recall, I have had a lifelong goal to look like Mr T, when it comes to jewelry. More is more, I say! Just like I don’t feel like myself without makeup, I feel naked without jewelry. I like to wear bracelets, rings, earrings, and a necklace every day. I also wear my Garmin watch, but I’m not sure if that counts as jewelry.

Outfit of the Month

Nothing makes me want to shop my closet more than current pant styles. Everything is so wide-legged now, and I don’t love that style on me. Well, as Dolly herself said, Here you come again, and so slim-fit pants will eventually be back, but for now, I’m pulling out my old City Sleek Lululemons. I love these pants and I have several in different colours; I wore the charcoal ones with an old Gap tee and my Skecher sandals to a friend’s birthday lunch.

I am getting a lot of mileage out of that silk scarf I painted with my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) last summer. It’s the perfect lightweight scarf for a warmish fall day!

Face, hair, nails, clothes, accessories…I think I covered all my favourite frivolities, all of which Dolly made look so good. Goodbye, Dolly. You were an angel on this earth and now you are a literal angel. You were a gift to all of us. I will always love you. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Perimenopause Edition

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It occurred to me recently that Gen X women are the first generation to really talk freely about perimenopause and menopause, just like we were the first generation to talk about the agony and ecstasy of parenting via “mommy blogs.” There were probably some exceptions but it seems to me that our mothers’ generation kept those experiences to themselves. And our grandmothers’ generation? Forget about it. No one wanted to talk about The Change, just like no one wanted to admit that they coloured their hair, IF they coloured their hair. My maternal grandma, at my age, had short steel-grey hair and wore housedresses and no makeup. I feel fairly confident she wasn’t chatting casually about vaginal dryness.

My feeling is that everything is easier when it is shared, and also there is no such thing as too much information. Today I will be talking about my Favourite Things when it comes to managing this sweaty, roller coaster-y stage of life. We are in this together, ladies! I also hope my three male readers enjoy the ride.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Perimenopause Edition

HRT for Me

When I was in prenatal class with my first pregnancy, I was assigned a “birth plan” to create. I remember clearly that my “plan,” such as it was, would be to try to avoid an epidural or other drugs, but I wasn’t opposed to them if needed. I had never had a baby before, so I didn’t know if I would want them or not. And indeed, I did have not one but two drug-free births, but during the first one, I started screaming I can’t do it anymore, I need the drugs!, at which point the nurse told me I was nine and half centimetres dilated, it was too late, no drugs for me. The second time around was even faster, and so I never asked for any. Plus I felt like an old pro by that time, as my babies were born less than eighteen months apart, and the vag wasn’t what it once was, if you know what I’m saying.

I have always found it a little distasteful when there is smugness involved in anything birth and parenting related, because the wheel of fortune is undiscerning. My labours were four and two hours long, respectively, but if I was a woman who was in labour for many hours or even days, I would absolutely have had drugs.

I had the same feeling about hormone replacement treatment for perimenopause, namely that I would consider it if I ever felt that I needed to. And for years I didn’t need to; for the longest time, I thought not right now, I can manage without, it’s not so bad, until last April. Last April, things became unmanageable. Suddenly I was unable to get restorative sleep, I was exhausted all the time, my whole body thrummed with fatigue and, oddly, an elevated heartrate. I was having hot flashes and night sweats constantly, and I just could not cope. I didn’t want to cope. My doctor, a brilliant and progressive young woman, immediately prescribed a low dose oral estrogen and progesterone protocol. When I went to the pharmacy to pick it up, the pharmacist explained that the estrogen would help with the hot flashes and the progesterone would help me sleep. Friends, I was so tired that I just burst into relieved tears, right there at the Costco pharmacy. The pharmacist smiled knowingly. The estrogen will help with the mood swings too.

I cannot begin to explain how life-changing this has been for me. In the way that you can’t tell how bad something is until you’re out of it, I realized I was on an energetic downward trajectory for MONTHS, and now I feel like my old self again. I wake up feeling restored and refreshed, my body doesn’t ache, my plantar fasciitis cleared up completely, and I have had not ONE incident of hot flashes or night sweats. My energy is great, I feel good, my cognitive function is such that I’m not wondering if I’m slowly losing my mind. Prior to HRT I was forgetting words like “lunch.” THANK GOD FOR MODERN MEDICINE.

This is the exact same Peloton ride: the top two numbers are post-HRT, the bottom two are pre-HRT, which indicates my general level of energy.

Ritual Stacking

I never forget to take my medication, vitamins, or supplements because I always tie them to something else. I take most things with my breakfast and lunch, but progesterone needs to be taken at night. I keep this mug that my friend Joy gave me (HI JOY) next to my bathroom sink; I tie the progesterone to my nighttime flossing and brushing routine. The mug makes me smile every day, and it feels like a call-out to all us Peri Bitches.

BEAST MODE

I bought you a present! my husband said, and I excitedly bustled over to see what it was.

Some people might not be super excited about a pull-up assist, but I sure was. We are all supposed to be working on strength to counteract age-and-hormone related loss of muscle mass and to improve bone density, and I do, but wow, is it boring. I grimly do my weight training routine with as much joy as I do the vacuuming: I like the end result but it’s just another chore in the day to get there. However, I will say that this pull-up assist is SO much fun. I feel like an absolute beast.

Look at me go! I find it very satisfying that eighteen months ago I could only hang, straight-armed, for a count of ten, and now I can do pull-ups with only the lowest-level of assistance. Maybe one day I will be able to do them totally unassisted! But even if not, it is the journey, not the destination, life is a highway, etcetera.

Roll Out The Welcome Matte

If you are a Gen X woman, then you will surely remember the days of using St Ives Apricot Scrub followed by Sea Breeze toner and Cover Girl matte foundation and pressed powder. We valued a matte face, let’s put it that way, and I still do. I hate the feeling of my face being dewy and shiny; I wear pressed powder every single day and have since I first started wearing makeup. The problem is that once a woman reaches a certain age, a matte look can exacerbate certain lines and wrinkles. How to balance the two?

I absolutely love Tarte BB Blur tinted moisturizer, which provides much-needed moisture without a ton of shine. It purports to have SPF, but it doesn’t say that on the tube, and so I apply it overtop my Neutrogena Face Serum Sunscreen.

It’s still dewier than I like, so I have been following it up with Tower 28 pressed powder; I had seen this powder highly recommended, and I will tell you it is worth the extra expense. It gives a matte finish that lasts all day, without any need for touch-ups.

It also doesn’t collect in little lines and crevices, which is an important consideration for me.

Wrap It Up

I am just not ready to embrace my natural hair colour, which is white and grey. For one thing, to go au naturel would be quite the undertaking: I would have to live with increasingly longer white and grey roots with increasingly fading red ends, or I would have to cut my hair super short and just let it be white and grey, or I would have to have my colour stripped out and then somehow allow my stripped hair to blend in with the white and grey. None of these options appeal.

A mere three weeks after colouring and my roots are on display.

I usually wear my hair in a bun if I’m on my third day of the three-day wash cycle, and for the last ten days before colouring my roots are pretty noticeable. Enter the hair wrap!

I just got this new one from Scrummy Scrunchies on Etsy; it’s nice and long and I can loop it around my head a few times or let it hang down my back in a bohemian kind of way.

In addition to covering up the roots, it also covers up thinner spots. I know, no one wants to talk about thinning hair, but it happens to the best of us. The feminine mystique takes a bit of a beating during perimenopause; our skin changes, our temperatures change, we sweat more, our periods are all over the place, our vaginas dry up, our waistlines expand, we sprout moustaches and chin hairs, and OUR HAIR STARTS TO FALL OUT. I will give another plug for Nutrafol (I WISH I was sponsored, alas, I am not), which I have been taking religiously since November 2022, and which has made a significant difference in my hair density. At one point, I was actually worried I was going to go bald. My Calgary doctor – A MAN – dismissed my hair loss concerns and said to me flippantly “How many bald women do you see, really?” To which I informed him that actually, my paternal grandmother had to wear a wig because her hair fell out, DO NOT GASLIGHT ME ABOUT MY HAIR, DOCTOR.

Anyway. Nutrafol has worked wonders but the thing about a hair growth supplement is that one’s roots become en evidence much quicker. Well, I can’t simultaneously complain about rapidly-appearing roots from hair growth while taking a hair growth supplement.

Outfit of the Month

I have a tale to tell about this skirt. I was in the market for a summer skirt that was more structured than my usual, and this one from Lululemon seemed to fit the bill. It is the perfect length, it is made of a stiffer material than my athletic skirts, it has a side zipper for a sleek silhouette, it has shorts attached underneath, and it has pockets! Perfection! The reviews online indicated that it fit smaller than usual, and since half my wardrobe is from Lululemon, I very confidently ordered it one size up.

When it arrived, I could not do up the zipper. Well, that’s not true. I was able to do up the zipper, but it involved massive sucking in. Also, I ended up zipping the skin of my waist into the zipper, which was a painful insult-to-injury situation.

I know what you’re thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. Did I changed sizes? I wondered euphemistically. I tried on my very fitted, structured Lululemon pants that involve buttons and zippers, but mysteriously, they fit perfectly. I tried on my jeans, and it was the same thing. It soon became evident that it was not me, it was the skirt, and so I took it back to the store and did what I should have done in the first place, which was to try it on.

And I ended up going up THREE sizes.

I mention this to illustrate that women’s clothing sizes are a joke. We tie so much of ourselves to a certain size – or weight – and then we feel badly when things don’t line up. But those numbers are just numbers. Those numbers are not US. A different number is not some kind of moral failing and it doesn’t say anything about us as a person. All the clothes in my closet fit perfectly, and there are many different sizes involved, depending on the store or brand. I will say that I felt a bit taken aback, going up three sizes for a skirt, and Younger Nicole might not have bought the skirt at all. Wouldn’t that be a shame! Forgoing something so cute for a stupid metric like a clothing size, and in any case, Lululemon tags are designed to be ripped out.

Sandals are from Skechers – comfortable shoes are a must at this stage of the game – and the top is an old one from the Gap.

The thing about perimenopause is that I feel lucky to experience it. Some women don’t make it this far! And the truth is that although some parts of it are absolutely unpleasant, we live in an age where we can talk about it, and there are medical interventions that can help with the really bothersome symptoms. I’m so happy to have a good and open doctor, I am so happy to have access to HRT, and I’m thrilled to live in a world where there are cosmetics, hair colour, and elastic waistbands. xo

Maybe

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As much as I love my own clothing, I also love admiring other people’s outfits and sartorial choices. Seeing a young teen in the height of summer wearing black tights, boots, and ripped denim shorts, accessorized with bright red lipstick and a look of general angst makes me smile with nostalgia. It reminds me of a period of my own youth; ditto the young women swanning chillily around the Costco freezer aisles clad only in crop tops and booty shorts. I also love seeing older ladies with their matching shoes and handbags, statement necklaces coordinating with their blouses and elastic-waist pants. That will be me one day! I mean, it may be me now.

Rarely do I have this same we are one feeling with clean-cut white men in their sixties, but I did recently when I spotted such a person wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt at Superstore. Che Guevara! What a statement! I had one of those myself, circa 1990, although mine was red while this gentleman’s was green. I mentally saluted him.

No longer do I have my red Che tee, but I wear this ekaminhale tank in honour of Canada Day.

Kelowna is a summer-tourist town, and so traffic is definitely heavier at this time of year. Since I lived most of my life in Calgary, I refer to Kelowna traffic as “traffic,” in that it might now take you 15-20 minutes to get basically anywhere, as opposed to 10-15. It means literally nothing to me, but it must mean a lot to some people, judging by the fellow who was behind me when I was on my way to Superstore to pick up groceries and send admiring thoughts to 60-year-old Che Guevara fans.

I was stopped at a red light, waiting to turn right. The person in front of me was also stopped, and although there was a small gap in traffic (“traffic”), she hesitated. Maybe she was waiting for a bigger gap. Maybe she was worried a pedestrian was going to cross. I don’t know, but her pause prior to turning was approximately three seconds long. At that point, the man behind me had had enough. He laid on his horn – for longer than the woman was stopped – and when I looked in my rearview mirror he was gesturing, his mouth moving violently. Unless my lip-reading skills fail me, he was cursing this woman and her cautious approach to driving.

Of course after the turn I found myself directly beside the man at the next red light, who was again gesturing and, apparently, swearing. I wondered how miserable life must be in order for someone to be that worked up by what could be, at most, a tiny blip of a delay. Maybe he’s getting a divorce, I thought to myself. Maybe his wife died. Maybe his child is in the ICU at the hospital and he just wants to go home and shower before returning to be by his side. Maybe he lost his job or his investments tanked or he discovered he has cancer. I related this to my husband later, who replied that maybe he was just an asshole.

Well, there’s always that. I did think of my husband’s words later in the week when I was walking Rex. One of our regular routes is on the greenway by a creek, and I cannot emphasize enough how wide this walkway is. It’s designed not only for walkers and runners, but also bikes and horses. Five people could walk abreast easily at any given time. In other words, it is very easy to pass people if need be.

HOT DOG! or, the reason we walk early in the day

I did pass a woman with a small dog; as always, I smiled and said Good morning, to which she said nothing. I didn’t really clock this at the time, since I was immersed in a podcast dissecting, of all things, Mrs Dalloway, and Rex was busy sniffing the ground. We stopped as he investigated the greenery from which the week before a garter snake had emerged; I supposed Rex was waiting to see if the wiggly moving twig was still there. The woman passed me, and I hurried Rex along, an image of him picking up the wiggly moving twig and accidentally crushing it to death floating, Hamlet-like, through my mind.

We walked along sedately, fifteen feet or so behind this woman, when she suddenly stopped. She turned to me furiously and said JUST GO, gesturing wildly in front of her. Rex and I silently walked forward, while the change in perspective from Mrs Dalloway and Clarissa is a significant one played in my ears. From the corner of my eye I could see this woman standing still and staring daggers at me. I kept my gaze forward, wondering what just happened, as I put some distance between us.

Five minutes later I ran into some regulars with their dogs, and as I chatted with them, I could see the woman approach. She stood at a distance, still glaring, her angry energy emanating off of her body, until our small party broke up and went our separate ways.

I don’t know her story. Maybe her dog was once attacked by a big dog, maybe she herself was once attacked by a big dog or by a middle-aged woman in an “I Love Canada” t-shirt, maybe she had a Covid hangover and took social distancing to an extreme, maybe she was just an asshole. But other people exist, and when we leave the confines of our own four walls, we have to figure out how to live in the world as it is.

It reminded me of when I was living in Calgary, only a few months into Life With Rex. We were in – this is an important detail – an off-leash dog park, when a man tore a strip off of me as Rex waggingly approached his dog. Call your goddamn dog! he screamed. What happened? There was no barking or growling or any other questionable behaviour. I quickly went over to him. My dog’s in heat! Get your dog under control! the man yelled, as Rex stood by obliviously, happily wagging.

This happened during a time in which I was under immense, non-dog-related stress. My nervous system was shot. I was completely unprepared to be verbally accosted by a stranger in the dog park, and so I apologized – I APOLOGIZED – as I leashed Rex and led him away. It did not occur to me until later that a) while Rex is male, he has no testicles, and would not be an impregnation threat, and b) WHO TAKES A DOG IN HEAT TO AN OFF-LEASH PARK?

An asshole, that’s who. This was three and a half years ago, and I still cannot come up with a compassionate, empathetic story about this man. My conclusion is he’s just an asshole, and a really stupid one at that.

Weekly Reading

I’m having a book flood right now! I had paused all my holds for our trip, and now they are all coming in. I finish one book and two more are waiting for me at the library. It’s a lovely problem to have, particularly since the guys went to Vancouver for some World Cup watch parties, so I’ve had a lot of uninterrupted reading time.

Lady Tremaine. This retelling of the Cinderella story through the stepmother’s point of view was very entertaining. It went in directions I did not see and had a very satisfying ending. A happy ever after, but different? I really enjoyed it.

Cleo Dang Would Rather Be Dead. Canadian author alert! Also, dead baby alert. Halfway through this book about a woman whose baby dies at birth, I flipped to the acknowledgements, where my suspicion was confirmed: this author did write this sad story based on her own experience. What it lacks in tight plot and storyline it more than makes up for in emotion and a realistic portrayal of what it is like to live out every parent’s worst nightmare. She writes about the difficulties of watching her best friend having a baby – that lived – on the exact same day as hers died, of going to friend’s baby showers, and of navigating well-meaning but draining and awkward interactions with the public. It’s a story of grief but also of hope, and the author wanted to break the silence around the tragedy that is infant death. I’m glad I read it, and I will read more from this author.

Dog Person. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book by this author, and this, her latest, is a very charming and sweet story about a grieving man who is faced with losing the bookstore he ran with his late partner. The twist? It’s told from their dog’s point of view, who has been tasked with finding someone for the widower to love again. As a warning: the dog is old. We all know what happens in books in which the dog is old, so BE WARNED. But, like having a dog, the joy is worth the end. What a darling book, with such a great first line: “There are two kinds of people in this world: dog people, and people who still need to meet the right dog.”

With the guys away, Rex has been enjoying my undivided attention. My younger son thought that a book written from Rex’s point of view would be 300 pages of Mom Mom Mom I love Mom Mom Mom treat Mom Mom Mom walkies walkies with Mom I love Mom Mom Mom oh no she’s getting in the car without me when will she be back when will she be back when will she SHE’S BACK YAY Mom Mom Mom I love Mom. I mean, it might not be a bestseller, but it would be a bestseller to me. xo

Food and Fashion

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Other than my new identity as a war history buff, shown by my love for The Rest is History, the podcasts I listen to are of the “light and fun” variety: modern etiquette, self-care, books – classic, contemporary, and Sweet Valley High – and my very favourite genre, two middle-aged women talking about life. I am completely uninterested in listening to anything heavy, upsetting, or depressing, other than, again, war history. What can I say, I contain multitudes. The last thing I want in a podcast is an evaluation of the US political situation, and so I never listen to the Ezra Klein Show, unless my friend SHU – who has her own delightful podcast, HI SHU – mentions one of his non-political episodes. The most recent one she mentioned featured the writer of the upcoming The Sensualist, a book of essays detailing the author’s love of pleasure. He talked about how life these days is geared towards efficiency and optimization, rather than the pursuit of pleasure and joy, and something pinged in me.

Two great, everyday pleasures in my life are eating and getting dressed. I recognise that the former can be fraught, especially for women; there is a lot of guilt and shame associated with pleasurable food, and I have devoted this, the second half of my life, to eliminating those feelings both in myself and others. What could be more boring and depressing than thinking constantly about optimising our diets, about macros and counting protein grams and shunning delicious things like dessert or wine? I refuse. This is not to say I’ve devolved into total hedonism with no thought to my physical health, on the contrary, I eat to nourish my body and my soul. I strongly believe that restriction leads to obsession, and that life needs to be worth living, and so indulging in joyful deliciousness is part of my life.

As for the latter, it’s no secret I love clothes. Sometimes I think of myself as one of my own childhood paper dolls, that I get to dress every single day, usually multiple times a day. I have curated my closet such that everything in it makes me happy and feel beautiful, and if it doesn’t, out it goes. I have no time left on this mortal coil to feel bad in my clothes.

And so this week I have combined my dear friend Suzanne’s Dinners This Week with Kae’s Daily Outfits (HI SUZANNE HI KAE), for Fashion and Food!

Every Day

On yet another podcast, author Elin Hildebrand described herself as “reliable and consistent,” and girl, same. Whatever I lack in other areas, I make up for in reliability and consistency; if I say I am going to do something, I will, and also, you could set a watch by my morning routine. I start, post-coffee, with my yoga practice, followed by my strength and cardio workout, and for that I wear one of my many, many Lululemon Tri-Y tops that I have amassed over the past nineteen years of daily yoga practice.

What can I say, they don’t wear out. I pair it with Lululemon cropped leggings. Every single day, for the past nineteen years.

I am a sweaty gal, so after that I need to change into a different outfit for my long Rex walk and my gardening session. At this time of year, that means a short-sleeved or sleeveless tee with a fresh pair of cropped leggings.

I wake up at 4:30, and I finish gardening around 10:30, so those two outfits get me through a large chunk of the day.

Sunday

It was Father’s Day, and my husband celebrated by grilling his own damn steak. He and the boys enjoyed that, along with roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus and fresh-from-the-garden kale Caesar that I made.

I always make a special dessert on Sunday, so I made my husband’s favourite: a frozen strawberry daiquiri pie with homemade magic shell.

I wore an outfit entirely from Mark’s, of “Work Wearhouse” fame. They are so much more than steel toed boots and hard hats, people! They also have my favourite Silver jeans and simple tees.

Also, I’m still wearing the ugly house sandals, which have been keeping my plantar fasciitis at bay.

Monday

Another outfit from Mark’s – they should sponsor me – and it’s perfect for a warm summer’s day.

My writing group meets on Mondays at 5:30, so we have a dinner that I prep earlier and can cook quickly, which almost always means stir-fry. This one includes tofu, cashews, and cilantro from the garden.

Tuesday

This is the hot weather uniform: a Lululemon skort and a tank top, this one from, again, Mark’s. Longtime readers will remember I had surgery on my varicose veins in 2011, and then, to the surprise of everyone, I started developing new ones several years ago. That’s very unusual, my doctor said. At one point in my life I would have been self-conscious about them, but now I’m all Get a good peek, city boy?

It was Big Fun Salad night, using Romaine and raspberries from the garden, plus homemade crusty bread.

Wednesday

I know for a fact I have had this outfit since at least 2015, if not earlier. Another Lulu skort – love them – and an Old Navy tank. I know we are all against fast fashion, and we should be wary of the environmental impacts of the textile industry, but I have no regrets about a tank that has lasted over 11 years.

Dinner was build-your-own pasta salad, in which I set out a variety of veggies and everyone can add what they like, including our first zucchini of the season. IT BEGINS.

Thursday

Another hot day, another Lulu skort, this one paired with a ruffly tank that I bought at Jacob, which went defunct in 2015, so I cannot even guess at its age. Also, oh happy day, Rex got groomed! He stayed clean for 35 minutes before going rolling and coming back covered in dust, with a tail full of dead grass and bits of spear grass in his face and ears.

Dinner was black bean soft tacos with garden lettuce and a vegan chipotle sauce I make.

Friday

Friday we had cooler weather and, thankfully, a bit of rain, so I wore another pair of Silver crops – Mark’s! – along with a Lulu tank under an Old Navy tee. The latter two I think of as “new” but I believe I bought them when I was teaching yoga in 2017.

Friday is my favourite day of the week, so I celebrate with my favourite dinner: Greek salad with pita and hummus. And wine! This Riesling from Tantalus has a 94 rating!

Saturday

This was a very unusual day because not only did I go out for lunch with my friend Sandi (HI SANDI), but I also went out for dinner with my husband! This never happens! But my son has a houseguest this weekend and they went out, so my husband and I went to the pub; I had a veggie burger and salad, with yam fries and happy hour wine.

I wore Lululemon City Sleek crops, a tee from the Gap, and a silk scarf from Cambodia.

It was a fun way to cap off a week of yumminess.

Weekly Reading

It’s Buzzy Book Week in the Boyhouse! Let’s see how the buzzy books of the summer stacked up.

Lake Effect. For very personal reasons, the last part of this book was extremely upsetting and triggering to me, such that I had to steel myself to finish the book. That is not the book’s fault, in fact, it is a testament to the story that I wanted to push through to finish, because up until that point I really loved it. It’s a story of two unhappy marriages that get blown apart by an affair, and that affair has ripple effects throughout the connected families and the community. It’s a really interesting examination of choices and their consequences, how secrets can be devastating, and, ultimately, the power of forgiveness. There is also a heavy “food is a love language” theme which really resonated with me. Like I said the end part was extremely hard for me but I hope it is not hard for you.

Yesteryear. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate time travel as a literary device, and so I was a bit wary to pick up this, arguably the Book of the Summer, in which a tradwife influencer wakes up one morning to find herself living in the year 1855. Without spoiling anything, I will say that the “time travel” component was more original, creative, and, frankly, weird than anything I’ve read before. This debut author received an enormous book deal, and the film rights have already been snapped up for a huge financial number, and I can really see why: this story would be perfect as a film. As a statement and societal commentary, this is very sharp and smart, not surprising considering the author is an acclaimed and serious podcaster. As a literary experience, I found it a bit too on the nose and unbelievable to really become immersed. I also had a few quibbles with some editorial oversights – such as “her sewing needles clicked as she knitted,” a character is referred to as an “old maid” when she’s 30 and has five children – but these are small things. I found the story of the influencer’s journey to be the most interesting, and conceptually this book is a real allegory about social media, appearances, and extremist views about the evils of the world we live in. All in all I enjoyed the ride and I congratulate the author on her huge success.

It feels great to be back in the swing of things around here. I will be back with my vacation reading list later this week, and in the meantime, take care of yourselves, friends. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The South African Safari Edition

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I’ve been home for twelve days now, and my trip to South Africa already feels like a dream. It was a dream! Every little thing was perfect. When we arrived at the Johannesburg airport, the gentleman who was escorting us to the tiny airport that housed all the little bush planes said to me hopefully it won’t be the last, when I said it was our first time to South Africa. From your lips, sir, to god’s ear.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The South African Safari Edition

Oh, I’m Driving My Life Away

We were in three different parts of South Africa, and each place was quite different in terms of landscape and animal populations, and we booked with a company called And Beyond. The woman who arranged all our transportation and accommodations is called Tonya Siebert, and she was fantastic. I highly, highly recommend them. Game drives happened twice daily, and each drive was between three and four hours long. A friend asked if I was ever bored, and the honest answer is no. I don’t think I COULD get bored, because there was always something new and different to look at. It was incredible to see animals up close, just living their lives and doing their thing, not caring one bit about the car full of people taking their photo.

This giraffe was so close to our car that I was holding my breath until it walked away, at which point I relaxed enough to take a photo. One woman in our group said “Was anyone else nervous? That giraffe looked right into all of our SOULS.”
Lion, doing her best Rex impression.
Posing for an African safari catalogue.
Where do you think you’re going? We OWN this road.

On our very first game drive, right after we saw these lions, our guide stopped the car and suggested we get out to stretch our legs and have a drink. I assumed he was just reminding us to hydrate, so I opened the glass bottle of water they had given me, and started to chug. Then I saw what they were setting up.

It was a full bar with snacks. A FULL BAR WITH SNACKS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BUSH. This happened on each drive; in the morning they would serve coffee, tea, or an absolutely delectable beverage called Mochachocolottamarula, which is basically coffee with hot chocolate mix and a delicious liqueur called Amarula. I had one every single morning and I plan to make this a part of my Christmas holiday celebrations.

This brings me to my next point.

Food, Glorious Food

I had nothing but amazing food for the entire time that we were there. The travel company had sent us a lot of paperwork to fill out, and one part of it involved food preferences. For each meal, I was given a special menu that had my name on it and every single thing was incredibly delicious and was similar to the regular menu my husband was given, that did NOT have his name on it. For example, if he was offered steak, I was offered a cauliflower “steak,” if he was offered a pasta dish mine would not involve meat. The food was so fresh and flavourful, and I have to mention the avocados, which were the best avocados I have had in my life! Every day my menu was different, varied, and universally delicious.

I was also introduced to the South African Pinotage, a wonderful red wine, and enjoyed my favourite Aperol spritzes as well. Also, when they made a gin and tonic, they made a gin and tonic.

One thing I loved about the lodges is that they were equipped with a water filtration system, so drinking water is simply served in glass bottles. There was no plastic and no waste. Any food scraps were sent to local pig farms, and grey water was used for irrigation.

Is This The Real Life?

The accommodations were stunning as well at each of the lodges. Kirkman’s Kamp, in the Sabi Sands, was probably the most convivial; it was quite small, so we got to know all the other travellers, and there was a bar that everyone would go to post-game-drive-pre-dinner, which made for a very fun atmosphere.

Ngala Safari Lodge was gorgeous, and featured a swimming pool that elephants would come to drink out of every once in a while. This happened while we were there but we missed it; later that night we heard the elephants making a lot of noise, and hyenas screaming. I don’t know what happened, but this is why guests are not allowed to walk by themselves after dark.

The most interesting and luxurious accommodations of all were in Phinda Forest Lodge. Each room was a separate structure in the sand forest, and each structure was built around the trees, literally.

Our deck.
The main eating area.

People Who Like People

Each safari vehicle was equipped for six guests, and I did wonder what the others would be like. It’s always a bit of an unknown when you join a group, and I always hope for the best. I am happy to report that all of our safari-mates at each of the three lodges – eleven other people in all, from all over the world – were all incredible and I am so happy we met them and spent so much time together.

Every second night each lodge would host a boma dinner, which takes place in an enclosed, open air area, and involves a family-style buffet dinner. Each safari group, along with the guide, would be seated at one table, and there was often traditional singing and dancing around the firepit. Of course I loved that, but as a people person, I also loved eating dinner with a big group and learning everyone’s stories. I am a person who wants to know the story of your life, even if it doesn’t get us out of Chicago.

A special evening drinks break, on the last night with our new and fabulous friends from NYC. I suspect we got extra special treatment because we were with them, and I’ll take it!
The special drinks table was set up right beside a hippo pond, and anyone who has known me for a long time will know why hippos are so special to me.

Fuck The Patriarchy

I love all the animals, and I especially loved learning about their habits and lives. But there was something VERY UPSETTING about the fact that all the female lions hunt and the male lions have first dibs on all the food; the females eat only after the males are done. Female rhinos are always trying to dissuade the males from mating with them if they already have babies, because if they get pregnant too soon the babies will die. It just feels like the world over, males are dominating females and making them weaker, see also the excess of valium prescriptions during the women’s revolution and the emphasis on thinness from the time women got the vote.

YES I AM PROJECTING MY FEELINGS ONTO THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

My favourite animal is, as I have mentioned before, the elephant. Elephants are matriarchies, but that’s not the only reason I love them. They are such intelligent, incredible animals. The female-led group all help each other raise babies, they support each other, and they rally around each other and their offspring in case of danger. Let us all be elephants!

Plus, baby elephants are the cutest thing I have ever seen. They practice threatening behaviour by flapping their ears out wide, which made us all go awwwww, he’s threatening us. They have to learn to use their trunks, so we watched them dip them wildly in the water.

We also learned that hyenas are a matriarchy. We watched them at their den, and the little cubs were so cute and fun to watch. I used binoculars to get a really close look at them and was absolutely alarmed to see the junk on the baby male. I actually thought it was a fifth leg. It turns out that hyenas have a very high concentration of testosterone, so that even female genitals are, shall we say, elongated. Listen, I’m not drawing any parallels or jumping to conclusions, all I am saying is that it’s a sight to be seen. Or not, depending on your interest in animal genitalia.

Outfit of the Month

Imagine my minor distress on finding out that black clothing is discouraged on safari; I have been diligently shopping my closet for the past several months, but I had to face facts. I needed some new clothes. I have become a big fan of Solbari sun protective clothing, a company out of Australia. If anyone knows about sun protection, it’s the Australians. I purchased a couple of long-sleeved tops in creamy beige and moss green, as well as a long-sleeve light beige button-up top from Lululemon. I wore the long-sleeve tops with my beige Lululemon Dance Studio Crops or my newly-purchased dark green Daydrift pants. Light, loose, comfortable clothing – with elastic waists! – was the order of the day, when you are spending six to eight hours a day in a safari vehicle.

I also wore cute Skechers walking shoes, which have now seen me through Morocco, London, and South Africa. May they travel to more destinations in the future!

I can hardly believe June is almost done, friends. How was your month? Tell me everything. Even if it won’t get us out of Chicago. xo

Five For Friday: The Packing List Edition

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What I Packed. As always, my husband and I took carryon luggage only for our almost-three-week trip to London and South Africa. I also had a large shoulder bag in which I stashed my smaller crossbody bag, and he took a backpack. Everywhere we went, the luggage porter would look at us and say That’s it? That’s all you have? Yes! I like not hauling large suitcases around, which is good, as it would have been really impractical for taking the Tube in London, what with all the stairs and escalators. I feel footloose and fancy-free, zipping around with only a small carryon. I like not having to wait at baggage claim, and I especially like not having a massive case of anxiety about lost luggage. I am not an anxious person generally, but as soon as my bag is out of sight I assume someone has lost it, or it is somehow being destroyed and I will never see my clothing and curling iron again. So carryon works for us in all respects.

Clothing-wise, including what I wore on the plane, I took three pairs of pants (moss green, beige, black), three black tanks, three black tees, and three long-sleeved UV protectant shirts in cream and moss green. I also packed two long floaty skirts, a bathing suit and cover up, a hat, shortie pajamas, two light scarves, socks, and underwear. I took one nice top to pair with the black pants for the theatre, where we saw a performance of Hamilton. For footwear, I wore cute Skechers walking shoes and I packed a pair of sandals. Also, because I’m the hottest bitch in this place, bringing sexy back, etcetera, I wore my beige, full-length, medical grade compression hose on the plane and packed two pairs of compression calf sleeves. We used the complimentary laundry service that each of the lodges offered, and I also did some sink laundry while we were in London.

Enjoying a glass of wine before Hamilton, in my one nice top. Look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now.

What I Overpacked. As always, I packed way, way, way more underwear and socks than I could possibly use. I am okay with that, though, and I will not change my ways. What if for some reason I COULDN’T do laundry? THEN WHAT? I’m not going to wear unwashed panties or socks, thank you very much. I also took far too much sunscreen: two sunscreen sticks, face serum sunscreen, and two 60 mL tubes of Neutrogena sheer. As it turned out, I could have made do with only my face serum sunscreen, as I wore my long-sleeve tops on all the safaris, and I found that the bottle was more than enough for the few times I needed to lube up my shoulders and arms in London.

A few people spoke to me fearfully about malaria, but June is a very low risk season in South Africa. Still, I packed two small bottles of some kind of hippie insect repellant, and didn’t use any because a) it was too cold at night for mosquitoes to live, and b) even if it was mosquito season, each lodge provided an enormous bottle of bug spray in each room which would probably have worked much better than the plant-based essential oil woowoo I brought. In retrospect, I would have brought none at all and saved the space in my little liquids bag.

Leopard, totally relaxed in the long grass beside our vehicle, unbothered by mosquitoes or us.

What I Didn’t Use. It has to be pretty hot before I will submerge myself in an unheated swimming pool, and the temperatures never got above 26 C, so my bathing suit and cover up went unused. I also rarely wore my hat, not because it wasn’t sunny – it was! – but because the safari vehicles can move pretty fast and even with the chin strap the hat wasn’t comfortable to wear, what with the broad brim flapping around. I don’t regret taking them though; I like the option for both swimming and hat-wearing.

I also didn’t use my light scarves; it was too hot in London, and it was too casual on safari to wear them. Neither scarf takes up much room so it isn’t much of a regret on this front either.

I wore my scarf one day and then within thirty minutes tied it to the strap of my bag because I was sweating, as they say, like a New York waiter.

What I Should Have Packed. For years I had a 35-40 day menstrual cycle, followed by years of a 21-25 day cycle. In the last six months, it has stretched out again, and my last period before our trip was a 52 day cycle, which started only two weeks before we left. I’m in the clear! I thought happily, but then, wary of my own cheerful prediction, I added a few pantyliners to my toiletries case.

I was right to be wary. The very first day in London, I got my period – surprise! – which was lucky, since there are Boots pharmacies everywhere you turn. If that had happened in the middle of the bush, I would have been fucked. I mean, not literally, since I had my period, and I’m old-fashioned that way. But I did think of the scenario in which I would be free-bleeding in the wild, attracting predators and the hatred of my fellow safari-goers.

The moral of the story? If you have a uterus, even if you think that uterus is closing up shop, PACK PERIOD SUPPLIES.

Is there a Boots around this corner? MAYBE.

The Unexpected Star of the Show. The importance of wearing neutral safari colours – dark or moss greens, shades of beige and khaki – were drilled into us before we left Canada. No bright colours! Avoid black! For the love of god, no animal prints! In one of the lodges I did see a woman in leopard print pants who also had a small baby in a front-carrier with a pink and blue blanket, and again, I am not generally an anxious person BUT COME ON. Anyway. I unearthed a rarely worn dark green fleece jacket, which features a windproof vest and hood, from my closet. This was a pandemic purchase and one I have frequently regretted. The jacket was impractical for cold, windy Calgary walks, and it is too warm for Kelowna walks. I hate wearing layers that have hoods, and I kind of hated the colour as well. Why I didn’t donate it years ago, I have no idea.

I’m glad I didn’t, because it was absolutely perfect for safari! It was a nice layer to have on cold morning and evening drives, and the colour was more than acceptable. I shall NEVER donate it, in case I ever get the opportunity to go on safari again.

The star of the show, my fleece jacket. Also starring a female lion practicing pandemic protocol, keeping six feet away.

Happy Friday, friends! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Mine, His, Ours Edition

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Our houseguests have gone home and it occurred to me, not for the first time, that our friendship is rare, in the world of Couple Friends: all four of us get along, as they say, like a house on fire. Not only that, but our kids all get along. Our older kids were born on the exact same day, only two hours apart, and even though those two had that special bond, they both have fun with the other two as well. In other words, all eight of us get along in any and all permutations and combinations, and I think that is very special. These are Our Friends, as opposed to friends who “belong” more to one partner than the other.

I don’t believe that when you get married, you have to share everything, even friends. There are things that are shared and there are things that are individual, and this extends to household items. The houseplants are mine, the leaf blower is my husband’s. The Peloton is mine, the squat rack is his. We share the Vitamix but each have our own coffee maker; mine is a standard drip pot, his is a fancy espresso machine that I refuse to learn how to work. The grills are his and the stand mixer is mine, the puzzle board is shared property. The televisions and sound systems are his, the piano is mine. The camper is his, but I think he wishes it was ours. Alas for him.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Mine, His, Ours Edition

Ours: Wine Tastings

If you visit me, there is a 100% chance that I will take you for a wine tasting. It is my number one activity to do with houseguests, and there is a special, personal reason for it that goes beyond my love of wine: my husband’s family used to own the vineyard and winery that is now Tantalus. My husband’s grandfather worked to own the land, and my husband himself planted a number of the old Riesling plants that are still producing fruit. The backstory might be his, but I count this as ours since our son now works for this very vineyard. And also, again, I love wine.

Mine: The Veggie Garden

I mentally split up our yard as well as the interior of our house. The large perennial border is ours, but the lawn is definitely his. The veggie garden, on the other hand, is mine. It’s early in the season yet, but everything is coming up nicely. I have already harvested the arugula, and the kale will not be far behind.

Anyone else hear the ominous music playing? IT BEGINS.

Every year, I kind of forget the vast volume of greens we get. It’s a good problem to have! Arugula salad for all!

His: The Iris Garden

I think of our flower planters as ours, but also a little bit mine, while the iris garden is definitely his. There were several old irises and tulips growing above the rock wall that lines our carport when we moved here, and my husband has spent a lot of time restoring the overgrown bed, weeding and dividing and planting. May is the month it really shines!

Mine: Gnomes

This is an obvious one; the gnomes are clearly mine. This year I decided to hide them all within the gardens, and seeing them poke out between the plants makes me smile. It’s the kind of thing I would have loved as a child, hidden gnomes, and it brings me so much delight.

Mine: Special Sunscreen

When we travel, my husband does not pack shampoo because, as he says, hotels always provide it. This is true, but also, I will never not take my own hair care products. Who knows what kind of products they have? Who knows what state my hair will be in, using some random product? What if they only have 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner? Relatedly, he uses the same sunscreen on his face that he uses on his body and there, as with using hotel shampoo, I draw a very thick and bold line. I am very choosy about the sunscreen I will use on my face, and my current favourite is one that my friend Suzanne alerted me to: Neutrogena Face Serum Sunscreen. (HI SUZANNE)

It doesn’t leave a residue, it absorbs quickly, and it works under makeup. What more do I want from a sunscreen, other than SPF protection?

The makeup table that the sunscreen is pictured on is something else that is mine, and mine alone, although the ensuite is ours.

Outfit of the Month

I don’t think I have ever in my entire life considered my husband’s opinion when I buy clothes or get dressed. I just assume that if I like my outfit, he will too, but even if he didn’t, it would have no effect on my sartorial choices. As my beloved Aunty C says, I dress for me.

To that end, this month’s outfit involves a black tee from the Gap, Skechers shoes, the world’s most comfortable pants from Lululemon, and a silk scarf from Cambodia. I wore this for a girl’s lunch out, but I think this is a perfect travel outfit. I’ve had those pants for years and they are versatile, light, and stretchy. What more do I want out of pants?

Of course, this blog is mine, and mine alone. Perhaps my husband would have a different view on things, but he doesn’t have a blog! I’m pretty sure he agrees on the iris garden, makeup table, and gnomes though. What are your favourite things this month, friends? Tell me everything. xo