Category Archives: Fashion

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

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One of the best things about aging is that I no longer care about being in style. I said this to my husband, who vehemently disagreed that this was the case, leading to an involved conversation about semantics. I maintain that having personal style and caring about how a person presents oneself is very different from being in style. I care very much about my own personal style, but as far as trends are concerned, I’m indifferent.

I’m sliding towards my fiftieth birthday not knowing celebrity gossip or who even the young celebrities are these days; my only exposure to new music is from Peloton pop rides, and I am solidly ensconced in styles that I like without regards to current trends. I can really, really relate to women who were wearing their hair feathered or mulleted in the late nineties, with frosted lipstick and blue eyeshadow. I hope I’m not there.

I think there is something to the idea that later in life a woman adopts a hairstyle that harkens back to her favourite time of life. I once mentioned to a hair stylist that I worried I was in a hair rut, always wanting the same old thing, and she said Well, look at Barbra Streisand! She’s had the same hairstyle for years, and she looks great. I was unsure of how I felt, being compared to septugenarian Babs, since I was about thirty-four at that time, but I embrace the comment in the spirit in which it was intended.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

Forever In Blue Jeans

Up until last week, I would have said that the current, very in vogue style of barrel or wide leg jeans was only for the very young, but then my gorgeous friend Carolyn (HI CAROLYN) swanned into book club on Thursday wearing a pair and looking like a total fox, and so I stand corrected.

The key to styling those jeans, I think, is to counterbalance the voluminous legs with a crop top, a fitted, tucked-in tee, or a bodysuit, and to accessorize with a wide belt. Unfortunately for me, I am reluctant to call attention to my own personal belt area, and so this is a fashion I am not going to participate in.

I think the most universally flattering cut of jeans is the flare or boot cut with a nice chunky heel, but heels are not part of my daily life anymore, and so I will also sadly pass on this style as well. I find I look frumpy in a flare with flats, what can I say. Fortunately, I am in the I don’t give a fuck stage of fashion, and so I still embrace the wildly-out-of-style skinny jeans. What other pant can you wear tall boots with? I also appreciate that skinny jeans go well with long tops, which covers the exact spot I wish to cover up, namely my tum-tum.

My one concession to wide leg jeans is a meet-you-in-the-middle style, the boyfriend jean. I like them cuffed with ankle boots, or little flats in the summer.

Here’s a hot tip for all my fellow Canadians: go to Mark’s, as in the former Work Wearhouse. They have a great selection of Silver jeans, which are in my mind the best brand around. Silver jeans have so much stretch without getting stretched out, which is a remarkable feature for denim. They have so many different styles and cuts, and almost always there is some kind of BOGO deal happening at Mark’s. I’m not sponsored by Mark’s! I just love that store.

These Boots Were Made For Walking

Speaking of Mark’s, my younger son just bought his first pair of steel-toed boots. According to his somewhat-trend-aware brother, my son is in the height of fashion: the aforementioned boots are Timberlands, albeit the tan colour is now splattered with oil and grease. I also have Timberland boots – from Mark’s! – which look nice, Mom, but they aren’t exactly in style. Well, no, mine are a) black, not tan, and b) winter boots. They might not be the height of fashion, but I still think they are cute, and they are perfect for our long morning walks.

Cute, comfortable, grippy, warm, and waterproof, what more does one want from winter walking boots?

Entering My Elastic Waist Era

Many years ago, I was laughing at the Sears catalogue that described a particular style of pants as “pull on pants.” Aren’t we all pulling on our pants? Well, yes. Pull on pants became code for any clothing associated with the elderly, but just like everything else I have looked at judgmentally in my life, it has come back to haunt me. Here I am, pulling on elastic waist pants and loving them.

I bought these from Lululemon and they are quite honestly the most comfortable pants I have ever worn. I’m not even sure how to describe them: like sweatpants that look like actual dress pants would be the closest I can come. I think these would be the perfect travel pants; comfortable enough to wear on the plane, wrinkle-resistant and honestly, pretty cute. I wouldn’t showcase the elastic waist, but I wouldn’t be showcasing my waist anyway.

Maybe She’s Born With It

I have long been a proponent of drugstore makeup; in my mind Maybelline’s Surreal Falsies is the single greatest mascara ever invented, and I love that brand’s Ultimatte lipstick. I am newly a convert to another lip colour, thanks to my friend Sarah (HI SARAH), who brought Super Stay Ink Crayon Lipstick to my attention. Friends, this is a truly remarkable product.

The colour stays on for hours, HOURS, even after eating and drinking and even dabbing one’s mouth with one’s napkin. I’m not sure how it stays on after sexytimes, but I’m guessing it performs in that area as well.

It’s Asparagus Season, Motherfuckers

I am so excited that asparagus is in season and, relatively speaking, less expensive than other produce right now. “Less expensive” is a very general descriptor and in the not-so-distant past would have meant half the price that I’m paying now. However, in season is in season, and we are consuming the hell out of asparagus right now.

Something occurred to me the other day: when I was a kid we never had out-of-season produce. Whether that was because it was prohibitively expensive or just not available in the 80s, we would have never had, for example, strawberries in January. I wonder if we are starting to move in that direction now. In any case, we are moving into Garden Season, which is my favourite season! In the next few weeks I’ll be planting some hardy greens, and I cannot wait to be harvesting my own produce. Hopefully I’ll finish the grated zucchini I have in the freezer before zucchini season begins again.

Chocolate zucchini bread, original recipe from the Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites. Much better than their weird section on casseroles and meat salads. I still have a drawer full of zucchini.

Outfit of the Month

Earlier this month the girls and I went to see a string quartet perform ABBA songs, and we thought it would be fun to dress up in our most disco wear. When this conversation first came up I was excited, and then thought wait, I don’t HAVE any disco wear. Then I remembered the dress I wore for my husband’s retirement dinner, paired it with my dressiest boots, and headed out on the town.

To be totally honest I was worried the dress would no longer fit, but happily that wasn’t the case!

March is an exciting month for us, what with birthdays and our anniversary and the anticipation of Garden Season; this weekend my husband and I are going to belatedly go on a date – A DATE! – for our anniversary, which is going to be a Favourite Thing for sure. Did you have some Favourites this month? Tell me everything. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Entering My Tankini Era Edition

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About four months ago I was purposefully striding down the hall with my arms full, heading for the donation bags I had set up in the laundry room. My older son was home at the time and observed my unusually stern expression. Whatcha doing, Mom? he asked and when I informed him that I was DONATING all these BIKINIS that don’t SUIT me anymore, his face became a study of concern and compassion. Oh, he said, oh MOM. Are you okay?

Well, I was okay and I am okay and the wonderful thing about having an emotional breakdown over one’s wardrobe and donating over a third of it in November is that, as my husband pointed out in an uncharacteristically Pollyanna-ish way, Black Friday and Boxing Day are both right around the corner.

Technically speaking, all the bikinis do still fit me. I could wear them, I could. I strongly believe that anyone who wants to wear a bikini should wear a bikini, but the thing is, I don’t anymore. I just don’t feel comfortable in them, and I don’t want to expose my softened and expanded midriff. I kept all the bikini bottoms except two tiny scraps of material which historically toed the line between swimwear one can swim in and exposure hazards; both items have not only edged over that line, they have gone off the high dive and are now at the bottom of the proverbial pool. I prefer not to exit the water showing everyone in my vicinity the sugaring job on the old honeypot, and so those bottoms went into the donation bags, along with about ten little tops.

My go-to store for swimwear is La Vie En Rose, and they were indeed having both Black Friday and Boxing Day clear outs, and I ended up buying six tankini tops, a couple of very high-waisted bottoms to replace the Danger Zone ones, and three coverups, all for less than $160. Can you believe it? Huge bonus, La Vie En Rose is a Canadian company, which is something I consider very seriously these days, the aggressive international political situation being what it is.

Speaking of which, I returned very late Tuesday night from a week in Mexico, for which I was motivated to acquire the aforementioned swimwear. I feel a kinship with the Mexican people and all things Mexican for reasons which I am sure you can discern. Of course it was a wonderful trip, and I enjoyed myself immensely, but something in the air felt very tense and awkward. I wasn’t poolside chatting with many strangers, let’s put it that way.

Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my unwritten but intense anxiety about my country being annexed and what would happen should that occur. You came here for Favourite Things, and Favourite Things you shall have.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Entering My Tankini Era Edition

Colour Me Beautiful

As everyone knows, my go-to colour, in swimwear and everything else, is black. To that end I did purchase mainly black tankini tops in different styles, but I did bravely branch out at the sight of two handkerchief tops for $10 each, one in green and one in a green and blue pattern. I’m not about to start dressing in jewel tones, or patterns for that matter, but I did feel very pretty in these two items.

Black is still my favourite, though.

It occurs to me that you might be wondering why not a one-piece? and my answer to that is simply no. One-pieces never fit me well and I find them extremely uncomfortable, in a wedgie/ camel toe way, not to mention the washroom problem, similar to that posed by the wearing of a jumpsuit. How does one use the washroom in a one-piece without the one-piece touching the disgusting floor beside the toilet? It’s untenable!

Caribbean Queen

A good swimsuit is key for me, as I do like to swim in the ocean. I like pools too, but the ocean! The Caribbean is absolutely perfect for swimming; it’s warm and gentle and perfect.

But You Can Leave Your Hat On

I love the heat but I don’t love being in the sun; I am very careful about my skin, particularly on my face. I took two big floppy hats with me; they both are easy to reshape after being folded up or crushed into a beach bag.

They both feature chin straps, which come in handy if that ocean breeze means business.

Black Hole Sun

I use sunscreen – Neutrogena 60 Dry Touch – even in the dead of winter, and so you can imagine how careful I am about application while in the tropics. Since we are Carryon Only people, I need to be smart about packing liquids. Stick sunscreen is an incredible invention, and I have two that I’d like to mention here.

Shiseido is absolutely great; it goes on so clear that I only applied it in front of a mirror to ensure I didn’t miss any spots. The downside is that it’s very expensive for this teeny tiny stick, and it feels like way more plastic than I like for the amount of sunscreen that I got.

My sweet friend Joy (HI JOY) works in this great little environmentally responsible store, and I saw this when I went to visit her. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this is the best sunscreen I have ever used, in terms of efficacy and scent. It is mineral but it doesn’t leave much of a white cast once it’s rubbed in, which is really remarkable. The container is plastic-free as well, so I feel like this is a little-known winning product.

Winner, Winner, Avocado Dinner

One of the many activities offered by the resort is a guacamole-making class. Although we both have made guacamole many, many times, my friend Jen and I thought it would be fun to join (HI JEN). At the end of the class, we were all given chips and asked to present our guacamole in an artistic way, and after the judging we would be able to eat it. Here’s what my plate looked like:

Who knew that my humble offering would be the winner of the Great Guacamole Contest? Certainly not me, but it was.

I think I won for two reasons, neither of them to do with actual guacamole. First, I was the only person attempting to speak Spanish. Second, Jen and I were the only people who weren’t obnoxiously yelling during the lesson, and then complaining about having to wait ninety seconds to eat their guacamole, or just eating their guacamole after saying that they weren’t going to wait for anyone or anything. Nevertheless! It doesn’t matter what the metrics were, I WAS THE WINNER!

After the class Jen and I enjoyed our guac, and washed it down with our favourite mango margaritas.

Outfit of the Month

As I have mentioned before, a huge percentage of my Little Black Dresses were victim to the Great Closet Purge of 2024. Happily, I found some cute ones in the November/ December sales, and this one is my favourite:

It feels very sexy and swishy and, crucially, it isn’t tight in the waist. It came from Ricki’s, another Canadian company, and I paired it with my extremely comfortable, extremely cute Skecher sandals.

I am the early bird of the group, and every morning I got up in the dark to find us all poolside lounges and to watch the sunrise. Most days looked like this:

But on our final morning, the sunrise was so startlingly beautiful that I almost couldn’t stand it.

I hurried down to the beach to watch the colours reflect off the water.

It was like Mexico was saying goodbye to me. How grateful I was to be able to experience that.

Speaking of gratitude, my sweet friend Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked me to write a guest post on just that topic; I would love it so much if you checked it out. It would be my Favourite! I hope you were also able to find a lot of Favourites in this month; I know it’s been hard lately. I hope you are all well. What did I miss when I was gone? Tell me everything about your lives. xo

Cold, Cold, Cold, Warmer, HOT

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Cold As Ice

We are in the midst of a cold snap around here, but I use that term very loosely. It’s more “cold” than COLD, or even Cold, but still, it’s the most winter we’ve had all year. I took the opportunity to look out my snow pants and heated mittens, and I’m winning all the style awards on our daily walks. It’s honestly a bit of overkill for these cold-but-not-COLD temperatures, and by the end of our walk I’m a little sweaty.

My creativity has taken a huge hit this week; I have been unable to write anything that I would want anyone to read. Someone suggested it’s the weather, but I think it’s directly related to the torrential volume of grim and terrifying news. I have broken my own rules for news and media consumption, and have succumbed more than once to doomscrolling, leading to higher than normal screen time and a feeling of complete emotional depletion. But we are in a fresh new week, the perfect time for a fresh new start; I am re-implementing my boundaries and refreshing my Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum attitude.

Cold Hearted Snake

We are also in a fresh new lunar year, and I recently learned about Ben Ming Nian, which is when it is the year of your own Chinese zodiac sign. I would have thought that this would be a very lucky thing, but it turns out it is not; the superstition is that people in their zodiac year are offending the God of Age, Tai Sui, and will therefore have a year of challenges and bad luck. My husband is a Snake, and so I guess he will have to watch out – although, according to the Chinese zodiac, the Snake is the second-luckiest sign, and so it might all just work out evenly.

As an aside, the first-luckiest sign is that of the Dragon, and apparently there is a mini baby boom in China during that zodiac year. It reminded me of when I was in prenatal class and I learned that there was a mini baby boom every November due to Valentines-related sexytimes, and, in Calgary specifically, one in late March/ early April. The latter correlated to wild Calgary Stampede-related sex which – and I’m sorry, because I know my mom and possibly Aunty C are reading this – was the case for my firstborn. My second born was in September, which, well, you can do the math. Let’s just call it a visit from Santa. Interestingly enough, the divorce rate also spiked after Stampede, for different, but related, reasons.

But back to the subject at hand. After learning about Ben Ming Nian, I looked up the Year of the Rabbit, which is my sign. The last one was 2023, which was indeed a year of great challenge for me! The others were 2011, 1999, and 1987, and I definitely remember challenges in all those years. Of course, I’m also a person who related completely to a story about an ill woman who got magically better after taking placebos, even AFTER she was told they were placebos. The placebo effect is my entire personality some days.

Recently Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked how do you feel about astrology and horoscopes? I have never really connected with the Chinese zodiac, and I think horoscopes, as seen in the newspapers or women’s weekly magazines, are silly and irrelevant, but I have always strongly believed in astrological signs and the zodiac. I would have been great in the 70s dating scene. As soon as I know someone’s birthday I feel like I know all about them. Oh, I’ll say sagely, You’re a Pisces. Oh, that makes so much sense. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have married my husband if his sign was incompatible with mine, but I’m not NOT saying that, either. More likely we would have never dated, had he not been a compatible sign, because yes, I am that person. Listen, a Taurus wants what a Taurus wants, and I am not going to waste my time with someone who does not appreciate my bull-like personality and love of luxury.

This Leaves Me Cold

Speaking of sexy compatibility, I was so excited to see that Bad on Paper released their annual Obscure Erotica episode in honour of Valentines’ Day. Some of you may remember that this podcast introduced me to the wild world of weird erotica, featuring everything from Clippy, of Microsoft Office fame, to the ghost of Abraham Lincoln. I personally have read about sex with Santa Claus, balloon animals, and a sentient door. So I was interested to hear what had been chosen on the podcast, and I will tell you right now: no. NO. No no no, things have officially gone too far in the obscure erotica world.

One of the featured books was called The Devilled Egg Made Me Do It, which, predictably, explored sex with a giant sentient egg. This egg, named Damien – he’s devilled, after all – has horns, chive-like body hair, and a tail that is actually anal beads. Just the words “anal” and “beads” together make me immediately and inadvertently Kegel. To say that I was disturbed even listening to this discussion would be a vast understatement. I was amused that the protagonist’s name was Shelly, but not amused enough to read this book.

The other host, though. I feel disappointed in her beyond all imagining. The book she chose was called Garden Gnome Sex Party and I need not say more. IS NOTHING SACRED? There were hats involved, that’s all I’m going to say. This was obviously upsetting to a gnome aficionado like myself, although it did remind me of a very funny Gravity Falls episode, in which everyone thinks Mabel’s boyfriend is a vampire, and it turns out he is just a tall pile of gnomes with a costume over top.

Since these writers utilize pseudonyms, they could be amongst us right now. I’m just going to say it: if I hear anything, ANYTHING, about my beloved Salvadore and friends being written about in an untoward way, there will be hell to pay.

Warming My Heart

Let’s shift gears from (very weird) Valentines to Galentines! The squad came over, plus a few new ladies, and it was so much fun. I am so grateful to be around such a fabulous group of women.

Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) has been encouraging everyone to find joy in gratitude this month (FIG!) but honestly, I need no encouragement. I’m HERE for the gratitude fest, is what I’m saying, and right now I am so very grateful that I have this wonderful group of friends. I’ve lived here for just over a year and a half now, and I will never not feel incredibly lucky that I have the Golden Gals Squad surrounding me. I’m also grateful for Canadian rose from my favourite Vineland Estates, and for chocolate.

I’m also grateful for cold and wintry Saturday afternoons and that Engie’s Cool Blogger’s Book Club (HI ENGIE) chose The Blue Castle, by one of my favourite childhood authors.

Weekly Reading

What else have I been reading, other than The Blue Castle? Well, I am proud to say that I DNFed a book I was not enjoying: Stanley Tucci’s Taste, which is a memoir through food. There was just too much meat and seafood descriptions, so I abandoned ship. Fortunately I had some good books this week:

The Husbands. This was such a fun and original book; it’s the story of a woman who comes home after a night with friends to discover that not only is she married, but she has been for years. After her husband goes up to the attic to fetch something, a different husband comes down. And so it goes, every time a husband goes to the attic a new one is in her life, and her life itself is new. It was an absolute delight to read this; I’m not usually one to enjoy magic or alternate universes, but this one was so fun and the ending was perfection. Big thanks to Suzanne and Lisa (HI SUZANNE HI LISA) who assured non-magic-loving me that I would love this, despite the premise. I did!

Summer Fridays. I was 24 in 1999, which is the same as our protagonist in this book – don’t you love when that happens? This lovely, fun, nostalgic book takes place in a hot New York City summer, and there are so many city-related details. A friendship is started between a young woman and her fiance’s (very close) colleague’s boyfriend (did you get that? I had to think for a minute). That friendship turns to something else, but this is not just a straightforward love story because, well, she’s engaged. I really enjoyed this book, it was a perfect read for this little cold snap we are having. It’s light, full of fun nostalgic details (“you’ve got mail!”) and startlingly sensitive for a book that’s essentially about infidelity. Thanks AGAIN to Lisa for the recommendation, is this the Lisa Show, maybe it is! (HI LISA)

No One Can Pronounce My Name. I expected to enjoy this book about the immigrant experience, queerness, friendship, and finding your people in the unlikeliest of places, but I did not. I should have DNFed! You win some, you lose some.

On our walk on Saturday, Rex and I came across a couple of mating raccoons. It was extremely disturbing, to say the least, as Rex barked and barked at what he must have assumed was a two-headed animal, while the male raccoon made eye contact with me as he humped away. I guess love is in the air in the animal kingdom too. I hope you have a week filled with chocolates, hearts, rose, and no wild animal sex shows. Unless you like that, in which case, who am I to judge? xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Jan Stan Edition

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I asked my son if people still used the word “stan,” and he said what do you mean, like the Stan countries? When I explained that no, I wasn’t talking about the Central and South Asian, mainly former Soviet countries, I was talking about describing how I feel about things I like, he tilted his head. I don’t think people your age say it, probably. Excuse me? I was listening to Stan before you were BORN. I am TAKING BACK the Stan.

I know January has been a rough, grim, and frankly terrifying month, on the international front particularly, but you know me:

And to that end, there are many things I found I could Stan in the month of Jan. I would like to go on record to say that January sunsets are truly things of beauty, and even though we still haven’t made it to 5:00 yet – tonight’s sunset is at 4:48 – there is more and more daylight and clear skies every day.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Jan Stan Edition

If I Could Turn Back Time

Where have the Cerave products been all my life? I know where they have been, inexpensively hanging out in the drugstore, so I suppose the real question is WHY haven’t I used them before now? A few months ago my skin was feeling so tight and dry with the change in seasons, and I bought this moisturizer for my first morning ablutions:

It’s revolutionary! I put it on first thing in the morning after washing my face; it’s much thicker than what I would usually use on my face, but it absorbs by the time I’ve brushed my teeth. In the summer I prefer a much higher SPF but I think 30 is perfectly fine for a) winter, b) walking in partial darkness, and c) the cloudiness that is typical of winters here.

I also purchased this product, allegedly a “serum,” but which seems more like a lotion:

I put it on before my Neutrogena retinol night cream, which leads to a LOT of tingling, but I think it actually does make my skin brighter and softer and maybe – MAYBE – even lessens the look of wrinkles. Does it turn back time? Absolutely not, but I think that’s just too tall an order for any kind of topical treatment, particularly one for less than $20 at the drugstore.

Bundt and Hustle

As I have mentioned before, I have been diligently working my way through my friend Julie’s cake cookbook (HI JULIE) since I bought it in 2022. I ran into a roadblock, though, because a number of recipes call for a Bundt pan, which I did not have until this Christmas, when my son gifted me one. This was along with a copy of Commonwealth, which I mention only because it otherwise sounds like he gave himself a Christmas gift under the guise of generosity. Also, I wanted both of those things. In any case, I made Julie’s Family’s Chocolate Cake, and instead of the ganache called for, topped it with a cream cheese frosting in order to use up the last of the four pack of Costco cream cheese I had purchased for a friend’s birthday carrot cake.

I foresee many Bundt cakes in our future. I have the pan, nothing can stop me now!

Snow Much Fun

It’s so strange to me to live in a place where in January there is next to no snow on the ground. Yes, it has snowed. But each snowfall was accompanied by a melt within a day or two. Someone recently informed me that one year it snowed here in December and that snow was still on the ground at the end of January, and my response was one of befuddlement. This was not as winterly impressive as that person thought. I’m from Calgary? Sometimes the snow from October lasts until May? But in any case there is no snow here in the valley, and so my husband and I have been occasionally driving up into the mountains to do some snowshoeing.

I love snowshoeing so much. What a great way to experience the winter. It’s fantastic exercise that takes in the beauty of nature, and it also makes me feel Wholesomely Canadian.

There is also no falling, and after I bruised my tailbone last year cross-country skiing, I am a big fan of staying upright in wintry conditions.

I Understand You Completely

I don’t know what is going on lately, but there seems to be an explosion of Pride and Prejudice merch available, and I am here for it. Before Christmas I was shopping at Indigo and although I most certainly did not need to buy myself anything, let alone another mug, I could not help myself.

Not to get all snobby and pedantic, but this delights me on so many levels. A regular, non-Jane-Austen-stan might think oh yes, there IS no enjoyment like reading and yes, we all feel that way. But it’s much funnier on a deeper level. The quote actually belongs to Miss Caroline Bingley, who is ostentatiously picking up a tome of a book in order to impress Mr Darcy. After flipping a few pages she abandons the book for other, more enjoyable pursuits. It’s a deep cut, and it makes me absolutely delighted every time I use it.

While purchasing new clothes, I came across a whole lot of Pride and Prejudice-themed items, and I immediately added to cart this sweatshirt, purchased two sizes larger than normal in order to be as cozy and comfy as possible.

I had to explain the significance of Most Ardently to my husband and son, who looked at me like Shrek and Donkey when they first hear the song Duloc Is A Happy Place. They much preferred my tee that the three of them bought me several Christmases ago:

Poor maligned Lydia. She’s only trying to exercise the only economic power women had back then. Also, we were all fifteen once, and I’m sure if I lived in that era my head would also have been turned by a red coat, even if I am a Charlotte Lucas at heart.

Paint It Black

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my girlfriends here? I adore The Golden Gals Squad; they are always up for something fun, and to that end my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) booked us in for a paint night at a local restaurant.

Credit for the above goes to my friend Sara (HI SARA), and honestly, she saw me. I was objectively the worst painter in the group by a long shot. I was there for the vibes and the hysterical laughing.

My husband, of Supportive King fame, said wow, it’s so much better than I thought it would be! I mean, me too? But the bar was pretty low. Also I’m not sure what he thought it would look like, but probably he assumed it would be tear-stained. Frankly, it looked nothing at all like the demonstration piece – for one thing, there is supposed to be a stag involved but I know my where my artistic limitations lie – but it wasn’t like I was planning on displaying this anywhere in my home anyway. I’m not Botticelli, people! This isn’t the Birth of Venus! It’s just a bunch of apparently dancing trees in a winterscape. Happy little trees! Let’s have a moment of silence for Bob Ross.

Outfit of the Month

This month’s outfit has a nice mix of old, new, and medium pieces. The polka dot tank and long-sleeve tee date from around 2017, the jeans are new, obviously, and nicely stretchy, and the cozy long sweater was purchased sometime during the pandemic. I don’t know when, as all those years blur together and what is time anyway, but I do like the sweater. It’s a perfect layer for an occasionally hot-flashy woman like myself in the dead of January, because it’s easy to slip off.

A few years ago I saw a meme about Decorative Gord Season, the Canadian version, which included a photo of the Barenaked Ladies’ Gordon album, Gordie Howe, Gord Downey, and, of course, Gordon Lightfoot. These days around 4:48 pm I start humming Sundown, which is an honourary favourite thing this month.

I know there is a lot to be glum about right now, and I personally have to completely skip over the news and even the headlines, lest I spiral into complete and utter despair. But I hope you can find a lot of beautiful things in your own little world, and I hope you found some this January. xo

Those Days Are Gone Forever

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Typically I am a person who likes to finish jobs in a reasonable amount of time, the exception to this rule being putting photos into albums. I have photos from January 2024 and on that I have printed, but that are still awaiting their placement into the albums that have been purchased for the purpose. It is a weirdly overwhelming job.

Other than that, I generally finish tasks fairly quickly, which is why it is notable that as of this week I completed something that has taken me since November to get through, and that is a closet purge.

I feel like I just did this; late last spring I threw all of my jeans into a big pile, and replaced them all with styles that boasted infinite fit and promised no more muffin top. I wasn’t happy having to do that, buying all new jeans, but I felt it was a worthwhile investment to have pants that fit and were comfortable.

It turns out that the jeans were just the thin edge of the wedge, so to speak.

I have a strict rule about my clothes, and that is that I want to feel beautiful – or at least cute – in every single item. You might think that is a tall order for workout wear and gardening clothes, but I stand by it. If I don’t feel cute, I stridently tell myself that it is the fault of the clothes, and that those non-ego-boosting items have no place in my closet, which should be a safe space of love.

This is great in theory, but in practice there is a big problem, and that is that it turns out I am very emotionally attached to a number of items, specifically my collection of little black dresses.

I went through the five stages of mourning for all of these items, as I tried them all on with increasing distress. At first I denied it was happening, even while I struggled to pull them over my newly-strong-and-juicy booty and to zip over my newly-disappeared waist and softened tummy. Then I was angry, I was angry about all those beautiful clothes that no longer fit, on which I had spent a significant amount of money over the years. One might rationally say that I most certainly got my money’s worth out of dresses and sweaters that were not even bought in the last decade, but rational thinking has no place here.

This led to bargaining, which is the most shameful part of the story. I wondered what I would have to do to be able to zip up that adorable sheath dress. I ignored my inner voice that was reminding me that bodies change over time and it is a perfectly natural and beautiful part of life. I looked at myself in the mirror unhappily and thought about shapewear and giving up wine. Giving up wine! This is what crossed my mind, friends. It was a dark moment.

This led to depression. Intellectually I know that it is unreasonable and probably not even desirable to hang onto clothes for decades, but I was really sad that my cute dress I bought at Jacob in 2009 no longer fit. It saw me through so many occasions! I was sad the black and white polka dot dress I wore for my son’s grade nine graduation no longer flattered my shape and I was devastated that the dress I bought for my husband’s company Christmas party in 2017 was unzippable. I remembered how beautiful I felt in all those items, and it was the opposite of how I felt now, and it felt very, very sad.

Then I felt sad for being sad. I mean, shouldn’t I be beyond this by now? I’m almost fifty! I told myself I was being ridiculous and that I had no right to be sad; I should be celebrating my body for what it is and what it can do, not judging myself on whether or not I could feasibly wear a fifteen year old dress without the seams exploding. And then I would look at the stuffed-full bags heading for the donation centre and feel sad all over again, after which I would be angry about being sad, and suddenly I’d be experiencing the first four stages of grief once more, the snake is eating its tail.

In a way, it reminded me of a day many years ago, when I found myself pushing a double stroller through the mall. I walked past my then-favourite store, the long-defunct aforementioned Jacob, from which I had purchased the majority of my clothes for many years, mostly office wear and the like. But that day, when I walked past the store and saw the gorgeous slim pants and blazers and skirts, I realized that that store was no longer appropriate for my life. I looked down at my two babies in the stroller, at the gigantic diaper bag stowed in the back, and at my jeans and casual sweater and low-heeled boots, and I had a Saint Paul on the road to Damascus-style realization. I realized that I would never again find myself in those kind of clothes with that kind of life, and I burst into tears. I would never trade my children for anything, I would never make a different decision with regards to my career path, and yet with the one-two arrival of my children I had never actually said goodbye to my old life. I had never allowed myself to mourn that former self and her daily clothing choices and so there I was, crying in the mall.

Those days are gone forever, I should just let them go.

Well, there were a lot of hormonal new moms in the mall, likely no one would have noticed one more, and in any case no one did. Back then I was awash in postpartum hormones, these days I am bouncing around in perimenopause; it feels like two sides of the same coin. A new era is upon me, and in a radical act of acceptance, I bought new clothes.

The majority of this existential clothing crisis occurred in November, which was fortuitous; my husband pointed out in the most positive way, this is the best time for this to happen, because Black Friday is just around the corner! We stan a supportive king, as Heather McMahon says. Just to provide a little balanced insight into my marriage, though, that supportive king also said For god’s sake Nicole, if you keep this up you’re going to turn into C. This is in reference to our crackpot former neighbour who would mutter non sequiturs about weeds and other people’s pets while garbed in much faded neon outerwear from 1985, as well as her merch from the Calgary Olympics. Everyone in the neighbourhood avoided conversation with her because it was always completely unhinged, and also it was hard to not look at her wildly swinging braless breasts underneath her Blues Fest 1991 tees.

But he was right, honestly, because it’s a slippery slope from thinking a nine-year-old item is practically brand new to wandering around the neighbourhood frightening people with your weird monologues about street sweeping. Plus, new clothes are fun, particularly new clothes that don’t make a person feel constricted or unattractive or that destroy one’s self-esteem. Embrace the season! And this is my season of comfortable pants and dresses without tight waists.

In a radical act of self-acceptance, and also a full-on copy of Marie Kondo, I said goodbye to my clothes and dresses. I thanked them for their service, as I piled them in garbage bags. I told them that I hoped that they would make someone else happy, that they would find themselves at a special occasion someday, and that they would make their new owners feel beautiful and special.

And in a radical act of honesty I will tell you that during those same Black Friday sales, I also purchased some shapewear.

Weekly Reading

The Divorce. There are two sides to every story, and this book – translated from Swedish – explores the lives of two people getting divorced after 32 years. What seems like a sudden and snap decision is actually a long time coming, and it was both interesting and terribly sad to see the nuances of something that happens every day. It reminded me not to judge, because we never know what goes on in someone else’s marriage. Fun fact: the translator has the same name as one of my great-grandmas! Thanks to Pearl (HI PEARL) for the recommendation!

This Time Next Year. This was a very fun rom-com about two people born three minutes apart on New Year’s Day 1990. The first born wins the prize for “First Nineties Baby,” and the second, Minnie (HER NAME IS MINNIE COOPER) feels her life has been jinxed forever. She does have some truly bad luck on New Year’s Eve, and the two live parallel lives without knowing it…until their joint thirtieth birthday, when they finally meet. Capers ensue! It’s really delightful but also interesting because – let’s do the math – their thirtieth birthday is January 1, 2020. Much of the book takes place in 2020 but because it was published pre-March, there is no pandemic. It actually made the book more delightful, a sliding doors, if you will, but without the soul-crushing reality of 2020. Thanks so much to Ariana (HI ARIANA) for introducing me to this lovely author’s works!

I hope you all have a lovely last week of January! Rex and I have been enjoying the Canada geese – from a distance – and he enjoyed barking at a coyote until it ran into the partially-frozen creek. We later saw a dead coyote on the side of the road and boy, do I hope it wasn’t the same one and that Rex was inadvertently responsible for its demise. But look at that face. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Holiday Miracles Edition

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It snowed!

Let me tell you, there is NOTHING to make a person appreciate snow like moving to a place in which it snows very little from a place where it can snow literally any month of the year, and does constantly between October through May. Here, if it snows at the end of February the inhabitants are bemoaning the Winter That Will Never End, whereas for me, a nice snowfall and temperatures above zero feels like a Normal Spring Day. I am assuming that at some point my internal blueprint will modify and it won’t feel strange to have rain in November, but for now, this is where I am at.

Having the first REAL snowfall – one that sticks around for more than an hour – in mid-December feels like a Holiday Miracle of the first degree. It also makes me feel like sharing all the other Holiday Miracles and Favourites that I’m enjoying.

Nicole’s Favourite Things

O Tannenbaum

My tree esthetic – well, actually my entire Festive Decorating Esthetic – is, without a doubt, Chaotic Nostalgia. What it lacks in elegance and understatement it more than makes up for in visual interest. Putting the tree up is an Entire Family Affair, and I hope that continues, well, forever. Intellectually I know this may or may not be the case, but let’s not worry about things that have yet to happen. In any event, every year a pattern emerges: my older son likes to take his childhood crafts and place them in clear view of everyone, where all can perceive that he really had no idea how to draw a face when he was three, and my younger son puts all of his at the back of the tree, unseen by all.

We have been amassing our ornaments for decades now, and this year I brought home a couple from Rome. One was this cute little Santa:

The other was a pair of lovebirds, which I think very much signifies my semi-empty nest and a new era for my marriage. Is that a narwhal, the unicorn of the ocean beside it? Yes. That was our 2020 ornament. When everyone was buying mask-related Christmas decor, we were leaning hard into the narwhal. (Bye Buddy! Hope you find your dad!)

Last year my dear friend Michelle (HI MICHELLE) sent me a gnome of her own making, and it has a well-deserved place of honour on the tree, beside the little house I bought the year we got married, and Bob Ross. By the way, if you haven’t seen Michelle’s dollhouse decorated for the holidays, I suggest you drop everything and go over there. Right now! I’ll wait.

Michelle’s dollhouse, and her entire blog, are one of my Favourite Things, during the holidays and ALWAYS. She is a bright light in this dark world. Speaking of dark, the sunrise is currently at 7:50 am and the sunset is at THREE FIFTY SIX IN THE AFTERNOON. The daylight (“daylight”) hours are very grey and cloudy at least 80% of the time, and so I’m basically mainlining Vitamin D at this point. But Saturday is the Solstice, as well as our annual Holiday Hoopla Open House, and after that we will be enjoying that extra daylight, two minutes at a time.

Also on the topic of lights, we have a tree that allows us to toggle between coloured and white lights, and also has options for twinkling and wave-like changing. The little lights are not twinkling. They really aren’t because twinkling lights make me feel like I’m going to have a mild stroke, but I do switch the colours and whites daily.

It’s Puzzle Season, Motherfuckers

I love a good jigsaw puzzle, but I am oddly specific about the things I like. Mostly, I don’t like a puzzle that is too hard, but I do like one with a lot of different vignettes involved. My husband and son brought this back for me on their trip up north; how or why they were shopping for Jane Austen jigsaw puzzles in Dawson City, I don’t know. But it is probably my favourite puzzle I have ever put together in my entire life.

I was drying my hair and my husband came upstairs and casually mentioned that there was “writing on the back” of the interior puzzle picture, and did I know that? I practically shoved him out of the way to run downstairs to look, and lo, there it was, a guide to all of the characters and houses in the puzzle. I felt vindicated as I had guessed which was Pemberley, Donwell Abbey, etcetera, and I talked excitedly about it as my husband’s eyes glazed over. My son made the mistake of asking me about it and then had to back away like Homer in the hedge.

It’s Also Peppermint Chocolate Season, Motherfuckers

For the first time in my entire adult life I have a chocolate Advent calendar, and while it’s fun to be included in the guys’ daily December ritual, I have to say, it’s not the glory I thought it would be. It’s fun, yes. I like my After Eight calendar just fine, but I almost think it would have been better to just buy a box of After Eights and eat one a day. The chocolate to peppermint ratio is way off in my calendar but, as my son says, it’s more about the event than the actual chocolate.

But this sounds more like a Festivus grievance than a Favourite Things, doesn’t it? Poor Nicole and her slightly-strange After Eight calendar, which involves a lot of bus-shaped chocolates. Why buses? I don’t know. Anyway, it is a fun little ritual, AND my parents sent a Christmas parcel that features a whole tin of After Eights, so I am happy and festively minty.

I am also happy because I made the executive decision to add mint chocolate chips to dark chocolate chips while making my annual batch of peppermint bark and people, this is what we all need right now. Or, really, it’s what I need right now.

Do you want the recipe? Here it is: melt some chocolate, add crushed candy canes, spread it on parchment paper and chill until you’re able to break it into chaotically artistic pieces.

It’s Brussels With An S

I did not grow up in a family that ate Brussels sprouts, and so I was in my twenties when I was at a Christmas dinner that featured a bowlful. I was filling my plate with vegetables so as to disguise that I wasn’t taking much turkey; this was back in the day before I was completely vegetarian, but I didn’t eat much meat, and I didn’t think my hostess would appreciate that. I scooped out a generous helping of Brussels sprouts, and with the clarity of hindsight I realize that of the nine or ten people at the table, no one else was doing this. I perceived the reason immediately upon biting into the mushy, boiled sprout. Oh, I thought, trying not to gag, THIS is why people hate Brussels sprouts.

Fast forward many years and we were at my friend Sammi’s for dinner (HI SAMMI). She had roasted Brussels sprouts and I gamely gave them a try. Wow. It was an entirely different experience and one that made me low-key obsessed with this cute little cruciferous. If she knows I’m coming over, she air fries some with olive oil and balsamic. My air fryer is only good for small batches, so I do them in the oven if I want volume which, let’s face it, I usually do.

Tis The Season For Boozy Coffee

Not every day, of course, but it’s nice to have a warming cup of coffee and booze around the holidays. I used to love a Bailey’s, but that cream wreaks absolute havoc on my stomach, and the almond milk version that came out several years ago is no longer being made, probably because it wasn’t very good. My husband went to the liquor store for the components of an Aperol spritz and came back with this:

It’s DELICIOUS. It’s coconut based and so creamy and tasty; I envision myself sipping it in my pajamas over the holidays.

Extremely Specific Kelowna Favourite

The postal strike is, while not settled, over. Sort of. It’s a long convoluted story that is best explained by the BBC, but essentially it has been a month-long shitshow in which absolutely no one won, everyone’s unhappy, the whole country is worse off, our remote and northern communities were completely cut off as Canada Post was the only organization that delivered up there, Canadians are still awaiting important government documents like passports, and small businesses have been, for lack of a better word, fucked. If the aim of this whole shmozzle was to line the pockets of giants like Amazon while small businesses suffered in the one season they can count on to actually earn a living, well, level completed and achievement unlocked.

In order to combat this in my own tiny way, I’ve been trying to shop more locally. Mosaic Books is a gem of a store that takes orders and pre-orders – although it could not deliver anything during the strike, of course – and I was thrilled to see that it was busy and bustling when I went to pick up my own order. I ended up buying way, way more than I had ordered, but hey. I’m helping out a small business!

Bookstores are second only to drugstore skincare and makeup aisles as places that can transfix me for indefinite amounts of time.

Outfit of the Month

I bought this sweater in Italy, and I will likely tell you I bought this sweater in Italy until it falls apart. As well as being Bought In Italy, it’s also so incredibly soft and cozy. I have my usual mildly-cold-weather boots, my Infinite Fit Silver jeans, a bag I bought in Italy (I bought this bag in Italy) and a tote bag featuring tiny Babar the Elephant in yoga poses, gifted to me many years ago by my friend Monique (HI MONIQUE). A perfect outfit for holiday shopping at Mosaic Books, which is where I wore it.

I love the month of December, so dark and yet so full of light, too. I hope your December is full of twinkling (or not) lights, yummy things, and coziness. xo

One Day In Your Life…

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Aficionados of obscure Canadian bands from 1988 will certainly be singing along to that title: …shouldn’t be a problem. One day in your life, shouldn’t cause you pain. Because it’s one day that you might never be around here, and I’ll never ever see you again.

Well. That got a little dark for a minute.

My favourite day of the week is Friday, or, as I like to say to my sons’ extreme consternation, Fri-YAY. My older son says Mom in that certain way that our offspring have to say that we are unbelievably lame creatures, us mothers, whereas my younger son merely closes his eyes to indicate the psychic pain I cause him for using a term like Fri-YAY.

But it is a Fri-YAY to me, I save special treats for that day and I minimize jobs and chores, and here’s how last Friday, the final Friday of November 2024, went down.

3:56 am. I wake up and think about things until the clock strikes four, and then I get out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, where I start that pot of ambition. I drink two glasses of water, perform my morning ablutions, and get dressed in the clothes I have set out in the main floor bathroom the night before. I turn on the Christmas tree and get Rex out of his crate, which is a true highlight of my day, since he behaves as if it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. He’s like the Mary Oliver poem about starting the day in happiness come to life.

Friday is a great day in Rex’s life, because it’s Garbage Day. I grab my flashlight and coat and we go to the shed where the bin is locked up away from bears. As I drag it up to the road, he runs back and forth excitedly. After that, we go inside where I fill his food and water bowls, fill my own coffee cup, and start my laptop. This is my designated blog reading time, so if you’ve ever had an incoherent comment from me, probably the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.

5:21 am. Yoga time! I read a poem first and then meditate on it while I practice.

This is followed by a Peloton ride.

7:15 am. The sun will be coming up in 15 minutes, which is perfect timing as I don’t like walking in the dark. I rehydrate and change my clothes, put on mascara and tinted lip balm, and we are ready to go! For a change I decide to hike up Knox Mountain. There’s no snow at our house but there is a bit on the mountain, and that adds many, many minutes to our walk, as Rex eats, rolls in, and frolics through the scant snow.

9:31 am. We finally get home and I am ready for breakfast. I make a smoothie, tidy up the kitchen, and decide that I cannot abide the state of the floors – side eyeing Rex – and so I give the main floor a quick vacuum and wash.

10:20 am. I shower and scrub out my shower – I do this while my hair mask is absorbing, hot housekeeping tip – and then moisturize, apply makeup, and get dressed. I practice my Spanish to let my hair dry a little before taking the blow dryer to it. I’m on a 1006 day streak!

11:43 am. I don’t usually write on Fridays, but I’m on a self-imposed deadline to finish my second draft before January, which is when my Revise and Edit course begins. I set my mental timer for twenty minutes, and after that I treat myself to reading a couple more blogs.

As Laura and Suzanne know, once the glasses are on, it’s Business Time. (HI LAURA HI SUZANNE). Does anyone remember the Flight of the Conchordes? When you get down to just your socks, it’s Business Time. Anyway, it’s not THAT kind of business.

12:21 pm. Lunchtime! Yesterday I had made a vanilla ice cream mixture and so I put that in the ice cream maker to churn while I eat lunch. I add chopped up Oreos and consider myself a contender for Mom of the Year. I read a chapter of my current book, which is Real Americans.

1:30 pm. I have a pedicure appointment at 2, but I need to stop at the library first. I do this and later discover after I left another of my holds came in. I had put all my holds on pause when we went to Italy, and I currently have eight library books at home, plus three at the library, plus TWO MORE in transit. Oops. I have a lovely pedicure, and come home to see my husband and son in the yard putting up the outdoor Christmas decorations. Rex is out with them too and he’s pretty excited to see me. He comes inside with me where I brush my teeth, call my mother, and then come back out to be a consultant for the decorations. Should the walrus and the penguin be together? Where does the llama go? Should the snowman go under the overhead vines as a welcoming committee?

3:59 pm. This is it. This is the day where the sun sets before 4:00. I’m mainlining Vitamin D at this point. We go back inside and have Cocktail Hour: first, a chilled shot of Limoncello to sip, reminding us of Italy, and then a glass of Chianti.

5:00 pm. A knock on the door, and it’s a delivery from UPS. My dear, sweet friend Elise has sent me a package and it’s absolutely incredible. Does she know me or what?

5:30 pm. It’s time to make dinner, and it’s my favourite, the one I could eat on repeat indefinitely: Greek salad with hummus and pita. What better day to have my favourite dinner? Since I (always) make dinner, the guys clean up the kitchen.

7:00 pm. While they are cleaning up, I change into my pajamas and do my dental and skincare routines. Then the three of us watch an episode of NYPD Blue. It is a ROUGH one. If you know, you know. After that we are all kind of silent, and I read a few more chapters of my book while my husband watches hockey and my son disappears.

8:47 pm. Bedtime! I’m calling it a day. A Fri-YAY.

Weekly Reading

To The Women. I have been reading these poems in the morning before yoga and let me tell you, this uplifting collection could not be better timed! has words of wisdom about body image, aging, and loving yourself more and more as time goes on. For those of us side-eyeing our wardrobe as it relates to our newfound perimenopausal tummy, this is a really inspirational look at aging.

The God of the Woods. About halfway through this mystery-thriller about a young girl who goes missing from summer camp is this quote: “She read Walden out of sheer boredome and found herself annoyed by Thoreau: his self-regard, his tone of superiority, the way he doled out advice so obvious as to be insulting. Here was a rich person playing, thought Louise. There were poor people far more resourceful and self-sufficient than he was; they just had the grace and self-awareness not to brag about it.” HELLO. Seldom have I felt so seen. I don’t think I’ve ever had my feelings about Thoreau encapsulated so well, so that boosted the book for me right there. But more interestingly, that paragraph basically sums up the whole book. It’s a foreshadowing and a thematic statement all in one and I AM HERE FOR IT. I love when authors leave little hints like that. Anyway, this is not my usual genre, but I picked it up because it’s so buzzy right now. And even though I don’t love mystery-thrillers, I really liked this, I found it a nice twisty entertaining read that kept me guessing until the end. Damn if I don’t feel bonded with Liz Moore right now, too. Living deliberately my ass.

Real Americans. This was an interesting reading experience, a book about three generations of Chinese-Americans that deals with wealth, class, assimilation, fitting into society, and, wildly, the ethics of genetic modification. It’s also about family and making the best choices given the circumstances. I really loved the first third of the book and then I liked it a bit less as it went on. As literature, it’s quite a remarkable accomplishment, spanning decades and generations and weaving historical events into everyday life. There are some interesting questions raised: what role does fate play in our lives, what does it mean to be part of a family, is wealth incompatible with living an ethical life? It’s a thought-provoking and very well written book.

Congrats to all my friends who participated in NaBloPoMo! I saw quite a few “day in the life” posts and was inspired to do my own – waiting until December, of course! I’m always a bit reticent to do these posts – is anyone really interested in the minutia of my life? – and then I realize that I myself am fascinated by them, so why not. Next up: an AMA! Happy December, friends. xo