The Anthology

to Steveston, which is — what would you guess — 20 minutes outside Vancouver?

And yet, it is an entirely different world.

You’ve been, right? Probably even eaten the fish ‘n chips at Pajos (if you haven’t yet, you’ve got to).

We walked for hours along the trails. And boy, did it feel good to stretch our legs.

And watch people fly kites.

Wore a thrifted sweater, which was hand knit, probably by someone’s very lovely grandmother.

And my acid washed cutoffs.

Weekends in the summer. I’m telling you — they’re the best things going. The week has only just begun and already I’m asking myself: where to go next?

P.S. Be a tweetheart and follow me on twitter, won’t you?

Sound familiar? It’s Britney Spears. And it’s also many of you.

Because after I posted a few teaser shots of the vintage wedding dress transformation, y’all were hollering for more. And who am I to deny you?

Here’s a refresher: I found this late 50s/early 60s dress at a thrift store and I had to have it. (I didn’t even know at the time that it has my initials sewn inside. Creepy, but true.)

So I had it hemmed.

And I specifically left the two layers of tulle longer than the under layer.

It’s more dreamy, more floaty, more ballet-y that way.

And it was perfect for the opera (Marriage of Figaro? Wedding dress? I mean, come on.)

P.S. I love when you like the Anthology on Facebook.

I am so very freaking excited to announce the launch of The Anthology Boutique where some of my favourites (like this scarf) can become your favourites.

Shop! shop! shop your hearts out!

P.S. See you in the Twittersphere, tweeps.

You remember these, right?

Well, they’re back! And they’re better than ever!

Because they are now shorts! Which makes me want to, um, jump for joy.

They’re still as pleated as ever, they’re still as acid washed as they were originally, but now that they’re shorts, they’re downright funky.

It’s an extreme makeover, Hammer pants edition. And it’s a miracle that they turned out as well as they did. I’m not going to lie to you, I was worried there for a minute.

P.S. I like when you like the Anthology on Facebook.

Went to an art show last night at Leone celebrating Vancouver artist Gina Miller’s  mixed media works (which are beeeautiful!).

And it got me thinking about mixing media.

Like coupling the soft flowiness of a silk blouse…

…with the roughness of a wool jacket.

And this isn’t just any wool jacket either. It’s a men’s battledress jacket, no less. I found it at an antique fair last year (note the date on the label) and it’s been keeping me warm as I battle the Vancouver weather.

My clutch? It’s woven reeds embellished with snakeskin cutouts.

Aha! More mixed media!

P.S. Tweet tweet (that’s Twitterspeak for “follow me”).

But I’m going to ignore that fact and reminisce about California.

Because I left my heart in the desert.

I love that it can be 8 billion degrees but there will still be snow on the mountains.

Another place I’d like to reminisce about? Turkey.

That’s where I found this shirt/dress (what is with all the hippy dippy clothes I bought in Turkey? I must have been having a moment.)

But back to California. Palm Springs (where we stayed during Coachella) was far quirkier than I imagined it would be — more art galleries, more midcentury modern architecture, more aging hippies. I can’t wait to go back. Especially because I miss the palm trees.

P.S. I like when you like the Anthology on Facebook.

And yes, I am blogging in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. We’re about to go backstage but before we do, I’ve been reading the synopsis and here’s the story in a simplified nutshell: Figaro and Susanna are engaged.

One problem though: he’s a valet and she’s a maid. Which would be fine except that their master, the lecherous Count, has a thing for Susanna and intends to claim his feudal right to take a manservant’s place on his wedding night.

Oh dear.

But this being opera there are love triangles a-plenty and Figaro and Susanna are only one of the many would-be couples facing drama trauma. Who will outwit whom? Who will disguise himself as a woman to learn dirty secrets? Who will end up in a much older suitor’s bed?

I can’t wait to find out. To read the full Manga, click here.

Update: After heading backstage for a pre-show talk (see my friend Briony exploring above), we’re sitting front row, which is fantastic (unless you want to read the surtitles) but we get to see the opera the way the conductor sees the opera, which means we have a clear view of all the sweat and the spit.

And this is how polluted my brain is: I’m watching Mozart’s masterpiece and I can’t help but think of Gossip Girl. Figaro and Susanna = Dorota and Vanya. I mean, really.

But the Marriage of Figaro is to the opera world what the Nutcracker is to the ballet world: it is accessible, popular, and full of melodies anyone would recognize. Which is why Briony and I are having an absolute blast.

And I’ll be wearing the vintage wedding dress that I had transformed into a ballet-length beauty.

What did it look like before? This.

P.S. I’ll be tweeting while I’m there so follow me here.

It’s so heartbreaking to think that the insanity of Coachella took place this time last week. Even more heartbreaking to think that it’s 350-something days until the next one.

But at least there’s the summer to look forward to. And although it won’t hit 96 degrees in Vancouver (mostly because we measure temperature in Celsius), it will soon be hippy-dippy clothes weather.

And it doesn’t get more hippy-dippy than the tie-dyed shirt/dress I found in Turkey, the beaded belt I got in Mexico, and the boots I scored at Umeboshi in Vancouver (close-up here).

Are any of you heading to Sasquatch? I’m trying to figure out if I can make it work. Would love to pull out my two festival staples again: earth-friendly water bottle (how many times did I stand in line to refill that thing?) and the cross body purse my sister had made on one of her many travels.

But until I can figure out how to head back to the sunshine I’m going to have to sit back, relax and wait for the sun to come to us.

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And let’s say that opera was the Marriage of Figaro. What would you wear?

A wedding dress? Of course you would.

I found this beauty at a vintage shop and even though I’m already hitched I had to have it.

I’m getting it shortened so it will be more of a ballet length as opposed to an I’m-going-to-the-chapel length. (I’ll post the “after” shot along with the big reveal of my Hammer pants post-makeover.)

I’m guessing the dress is from the sixties. But the spookiest part about it? The initials sewn inside — they’re mine.

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