For ad class, my fellow peers and I were instructed to create a vine promoting a product we use. As you will see, conditioner is very important and really kicks off your day.
https://vine.co/v/O1nJBVnJj9p
Sincerely, Ingrid
Saturday 29 November 2014
Thursday 20 November 2014
The 21st Century KKK: Korruption of the Kardashian Klan
My drive to school is a very fragile time for me. It's early, it's long, I hate every other driver that's not me, and I'm constantly changing radio stations to find a suitable song because Kate Moss (name of my 2009 Nissan, judge me) isn't up to date with Bluetooth, so playing my iTunes is a lost cause.
Shockingly, the other morning my aura felt quite centred on my drive to school. Maybe it's because my outfit was on point that morning. Unclear. Anyway, amidst my station changing ritual, waiting for the next song to play, I heard it. The word that makes my blood boil. The word that makes me roll my eyes to the moon and back. The word that makes me utter "for fuck sakes" every time.
Kardashian.
It's basically impossible to get one goddamn Kardashian-free day. That.....vile family infiltrates society's every social outlet humanly possible. They are basically inescapable. Like, here I am in my car waiting patiently for Nicki Minaj's Anaconda to play and it's rudely delayed by "news". I scoff at the word news since it consisted of Kim Kardashian buying a million-trillion-zillion dollar island to build an amusement park for her baby. Double-you-tee-eff..?!
I just don't understand how this is relevant, let alone deemed "news worthy." I mean, who the fuck cares? Why do we need to "keep up" with this family every single week? What do they do that contributes to our society?
To my complete dismay and disgust, the millions upon millions of people do "keep up with the Kardashians." We are a sickengly Kardashian obsessed society.
Allow me to elaborate: Kim and Kanye's wedding was dubbed "the wedding of the century," and was the top morning story on May 24th on at least three different news channels. I know this because I was searching for real life news whilst drinking my kale smoothie, and instead every HD channel was plastered with footage of the gaudy wedding venue. Ew much?
The sad truth is we are infatuated with a family who are famous for being famous. And I throw the word "we" around because admittedly, and very resentfully, I too show an interest in them. It infuriates me that I get sucked in to the Kardashian phenomenon, but they're quite literally everywhere.
I know more about Kim's fat ass and Kylie's lip injected-esque lips (personally, I do think they look amaze, but that's neither here nor there), than I do about impoverished third world countries.
Now, obviously that indiscretion is on me, I'm very capable of gaining access to updates on the qualms around the world, but the point is I have to search for them. I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't be knowledgeable on the size of Kim's derriere or the divorces amongst the Kardashian ladies. But that's what's making headlines oppose to world crisis' or scientific discoveries. It's pathetic.
What's really tragic about the Kardashian plague is that years from now, future generations will look back and the Kardashians will part of society's history. They won't know the great artists like Dali, Monet, or Da Vinci, nor the great rulers like Alexander The Great or Cleopatra. No. It will be marred with this family. It's an insult to the subject of history alone.
It's so irksome that we are allowing the Kardashians to taint our culture. The thing that just riles me up is how this family weaselled their way into the world of fashion.
Fashion is an art to me, and I have dedicated my heart to it (sooooooooooo cheesy, just go with it.) I have a respect for it, the designers, the pristine details, the entire production. The fashion industry has an allure to it, and a sense of prestige to it.
Designers, editors, and everyone involved in fashion have embraced this family and allow them to schmooze with the best. I feel......so violated. My special world, one I respected, has granted the Kardashian disease to be embraced. I feel as if my boyfriend (haha, I'm super single) has cheated on me with a tacky member of the Jersey Shore.
Marc Jacobs, Chanel, Givenchy.... all respected fashion houses, have planted a privileged 18 year old Kendall Jenner on their runways. Yes, she is tall, skinny, fierce face, but I mean really?! A Kardashian on legendary runways that have been walked by veterans Gisele, Kate and Claudia?
Like, LOL Kendall you're not a model. Le sigh.
I'm just so over them. The thought of them exhausts me, it's worrisome what has become important to our society. The argument is that people are curious about their lives. Their wealth, the privileges, their every move.
Here's an idea: instead of being curious, be a go-getter and achieve those things YOURSELVES. You're capable. Work hard. Play hard. Why should a pack of sleazy bimbettes controlled by a over-botoxed mother dictate your lives? It shouldn't.
The fact of the matter is, everyone talks about them, hate or love. You love to hate on them, you love to envy them, you love to aspire to them. Stop. It's disgusting.
I hope that their time will phase out fast, just like Juicy Couture sweat pants did.
Truthfully, the only thing that can be done to get the Kardashians to disintegrate into thin air is to simply ignore them, make them irrelevant. It's not probable, but not impossible.
At least I have this to keep me smug, because, lest we forget:
Just let the latter sink in.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
I know more about Kim's fat ass and Kylie's lip injected-esque lips (personally, I do think they look amaze, but that's neither here nor there), than I do about impoverished third world countries.
Now, obviously that indiscretion is on me, I'm very capable of gaining access to updates on the qualms around the world, but the point is I have to search for them. I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't be knowledgeable on the size of Kim's derriere or the divorces amongst the Kardashian ladies. But that's what's making headlines oppose to world crisis' or scientific discoveries. It's pathetic.
What's really tragic about the Kardashian plague is that years from now, future generations will look back and the Kardashians will part of society's history. They won't know the great artists like Dali, Monet, or Da Vinci, nor the great rulers like Alexander The Great or Cleopatra. No. It will be marred with this family. It's an insult to the subject of history alone.
It's so irksome that we are allowing the Kardashians to taint our culture. The thing that just riles me up is how this family weaselled their way into the world of fashion.
Fashion is an art to me, and I have dedicated my heart to it (sooooooooooo cheesy, just go with it.) I have a respect for it, the designers, the pristine details, the entire production. The fashion industry has an allure to it, and a sense of prestige to it.
Designers, editors, and everyone involved in fashion have embraced this family and allow them to schmooze with the best. I feel......so violated. My special world, one I respected, has granted the Kardashian disease to be embraced. I feel as if my boyfriend (haha, I'm super single) has cheated on me with a tacky member of the Jersey Shore.
Marc Jacobs, Chanel, Givenchy.... all respected fashion houses, have planted a privileged 18 year old Kendall Jenner on their runways. Yes, she is tall, skinny, fierce face, but I mean really?! A Kardashian on legendary runways that have been walked by veterans Gisele, Kate and Claudia?
Like, LOL Kendall you're not a model. Le sigh.
I'm just so over them. The thought of them exhausts me, it's worrisome what has become important to our society. The argument is that people are curious about their lives. Their wealth, the privileges, their every move.
Here's an idea: instead of being curious, be a go-getter and achieve those things YOURSELVES. You're capable. Work hard. Play hard. Why should a pack of sleazy bimbettes controlled by a over-botoxed mother dictate your lives? It shouldn't.
The fact of the matter is, everyone talks about them, hate or love. You love to hate on them, you love to envy them, you love to aspire to them. Stop. It's disgusting.
I hope that their time will phase out fast, just like Juicy Couture sweat pants did.
Truthfully, the only thing that can be done to get the Kardashians to disintegrate into thin air is to simply ignore them, make them irrelevant. It's not probable, but not impossible.
At least I have this to keep me smug, because, lest we forget:
Sincerely,
Ingrid
Friday 14 November 2014
Loud, not so Proud
Ah, the world of theatre. It's an art I can appreciate thanks to Broadway classics and its legends like Fred Astaire and Liza Minnelli. Maybe my interpretation of the theatre is somewhat glamourized, but nonetheless, I do enjoy a good show.
Before my CreComm days, I've thoroughly enjoyed Broadway renditions of Chicago, Grease and lower budget plays, all of which were full of wit and perfect theatrical timing.
On the flip side, the plays that were mandatory to attend in high school, my experiences were shall we say......less Frank Sinatra and more Britney Spears. In English: they fell flat.
Keeping that in mind, I was not sure what to expect when I attended a play with my classmates this past Wednesday. Would it be dry? Dull? A bizarre "artsy-performance" piece? An awkward musical?Maybe I'd be blown away with a masterpiece? I had no clue.
Well, it wasn't dull.
The play attended was called Proud by Michael Healy, a satirical four actor play set in Parliament circa 2011 after Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party win the federal election. The website for the play describes the show as "a biting political satire" and "humorous and clever". Right. I beg to differ.
Before I start passing judgment, I will give credit to the actors. Ross McMillan did an impeccable performance as Stephen Harper, right down to that silver haircut and robotic posture. Eric Blais and Kevin P. Gabel were terrific supporting roles as Cary Baines and Jake. It's hard not to feel biased towards Daria Puttaert because her character Jisbella Lyth was way over the top, way over-sexed, and just way too extra. But, all in all, she acted her part really well.
Okay. Now, the play. First things first, this play could've been a perfect satirical comedy IF it stuck with political jokes, which there was tons of opportunity for. Instead, they took the cliche route by over-sexualizing the female lead, and overused swear words (fuck was every second word), all for some cheap laughs.
Also, it was extremely difficult to get past how unrealistic the play was. Now I know, I know it was satire. But really, do you think a brand new female MP would barge into the newly appointed prime minister's office screaming "do you have a condom?!" in regards to sleeping with a random guy from the press. Oh, and would Stephen Harper address all his MP's telling them "they can go to him for any of their problems?" What is this, Dr. Phil?
The story was supposed to portray the Prime Minister using the density of Jisbella to his advantage to distract the press from his agenda. It just ended up being a bunch of sexual innuendoes, with Jisbella seducing Stephen Harper and Cary Baines.
However, there were some good parts, but they didn't happen until half way through the show. The turning point happened when Stephen Harper was listing off what he didn't care about in Parliament, and why he became prime minister over drinks with Jisbella. But, even that fell flat after awhile because his spiel just dragged on.
Overall, the play was not boring, but did not live up to its "humorous and clever" description. Where the good political jabs should've fit in, it was overshadowed by Jisbella's obnoxious and loud demeanour. When using sexuality and curse words, it needs to be subtle to make it work, not overbearing and distracting.
It was after the play, where some good points were made, raising the question does the government take advantage of the media. Considering how the main focal point was Jisbella as a ploy for the media, it's a good question to ponder.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
Before my CreComm days, I've thoroughly enjoyed Broadway renditions of Chicago, Grease and lower budget plays, all of which were full of wit and perfect theatrical timing.
On the flip side, the plays that were mandatory to attend in high school, my experiences were shall we say......less Frank Sinatra and more Britney Spears. In English: they fell flat.
Keeping that in mind, I was not sure what to expect when I attended a play with my classmates this past Wednesday. Would it be dry? Dull? A bizarre "artsy-performance" piece? An awkward musical?Maybe I'd be blown away with a masterpiece? I had no clue.
Well, it wasn't dull.
The play attended was called Proud by Michael Healy, a satirical four actor play set in Parliament circa 2011 after Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party win the federal election. The website for the play describes the show as "a biting political satire" and "humorous and clever". Right. I beg to differ.
Before I start passing judgment, I will give credit to the actors. Ross McMillan did an impeccable performance as Stephen Harper, right down to that silver haircut and robotic posture. Eric Blais and Kevin P. Gabel were terrific supporting roles as Cary Baines and Jake. It's hard not to feel biased towards Daria Puttaert because her character Jisbella Lyth was way over the top, way over-sexed, and just way too extra. But, all in all, she acted her part really well.
Okay. Now, the play. First things first, this play could've been a perfect satirical comedy IF it stuck with political jokes, which there was tons of opportunity for. Instead, they took the cliche route by over-sexualizing the female lead, and overused swear words (fuck was every second word), all for some cheap laughs.
Also, it was extremely difficult to get past how unrealistic the play was. Now I know, I know it was satire. But really, do you think a brand new female MP would barge into the newly appointed prime minister's office screaming "do you have a condom?!" in regards to sleeping with a random guy from the press. Oh, and would Stephen Harper address all his MP's telling them "they can go to him for any of their problems?" What is this, Dr. Phil?
The story was supposed to portray the Prime Minister using the density of Jisbella to his advantage to distract the press from his agenda. It just ended up being a bunch of sexual innuendoes, with Jisbella seducing Stephen Harper and Cary Baines.
However, there were some good parts, but they didn't happen until half way through the show. The turning point happened when Stephen Harper was listing off what he didn't care about in Parliament, and why he became prime minister over drinks with Jisbella. But, even that fell flat after awhile because his spiel just dragged on.
Overall, the play was not boring, but did not live up to its "humorous and clever" description. Where the good political jabs should've fit in, it was overshadowed by Jisbella's obnoxious and loud demeanour. When using sexuality and curse words, it needs to be subtle to make it work, not overbearing and distracting.
It was after the play, where some good points were made, raising the question does the government take advantage of the media. Considering how the main focal point was Jisbella as a ploy for the media, it's a good question to ponder.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
Saturday 8 November 2014
New York City Isn't the only "Big Apple" Out There
Almost every day, (okay every day), I lazily scroll through my Instagram when I have a spare moment (spare moments usually mean I'm bored/waiting/procrastinating). I robotically give a double tap to the dozens of fashion accounts I follow, and more often than not, ignore what I call "the pity accounts" (old classmates/family members who post bad pictures).
Admittedly, I am shall we say, a wee bit meticulous when it comes to my Instagram account. I have pruned and fine-tuned it into the perfect ratio of fashion, friends and food photographs. When it comes to finding a new account to add to my list, I get very selective. I mean, there can only be so many pictures of cakes, shoes and impossibly beautiful faces to follow, right? Right.
So, it takes a lot for me to "commit" to a new account, something fresh and inspiring. And then it happened. Sitting in my car (I was waiting this time), I stumbled upon one of the most fascinating Instagram pages, Humans of New York. Wow. What a breath of fresh air.
To put it mildly, I was captivated. Basically, the account consists of photos of citizens of New York City, from all demographics, including age, ethnicity, gender and financial backgrounds. The captions for the photos are either life stories or quotes of each person.
Completely immersed, I sat in the parking lot of Starbucks and read every single story. There's just shy of 2500 posts so needless to say, I sat there for quite some time. I just find it so..utterly cool that someone had this idea to bring the stories of random individuals on the street to life through the simplicity of an Instagram account. Aside from feeling completely impressed, my initial thought while reading was I wish I came up with something like this.
Ideas formulated of "People of Winnipeg" and instantly thought super no. It just doesn't have the same allure as New York. But then I thought "why not?" To be interesting, to have a story, does one have to live in a city with a grander scale of population? No.
Winnipeg gets so much backlash, and the funny thing is, from its own residents. But why? There are so many hidden gems in this city, with so many interesting people. It really aggravates me when I hear people say "Winnipeg is so lame" "I can't wait to get out of here" and blah blah blah. Seriously, shut up and take five steps back and think for a moment. Do you think moving to another city will solve your life problems? Yeah, I didn't think so.
If you take the time to explore the city, observe the people of Winnipeg, I can guarantee you will discover the most interesting stories that were right here in your community. No, Winnipeg may not be New York, but it is a city filled with culture and life. You just need to look, and I think the concept is something to delve deeper on.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
Saturday 1 November 2014
Chic-Or-Treating
When I was eight years old, I was challenged to catch the biggest fish amongst a group of boys. We were in Kenora (I was wearing the worst outfit), and I was the only girl insight. Actually, I was the only girl they probably saw that summer. Anyways, to sum up this cute little story, I obviously accepted this challenge, caught the biggest fish and owned everyone.
Now, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. I mean, I've been accepting them since I was eight (most likely before then), yet it's always been to either a) prove everyone wrong, or b) there is no "b", only plan "a". So disregard 'b'.
My point being, I was 'challenged' to write about a more worldly issue this week, to write about my passion. Well, today, is not that day (on the worldy issue). Because my passion is fashion. Fashion. Fashion. Fashion. (and french cuisine. And the Salvador Dali book my eyes have devoured thousands of times. )
Let's all take a moment to disregard my bad grammar and punctuation in the previous paragraph to address that yes, I do take a deep interest in worldly issues, however, it's not the only thing that drives me.
Fashion has been with me for all my life; my mother is Parisienne so I guess blame it on her or whatever. To me, fashion is so much more than the trend of the season or an article of clothing. It's a state of being.
So, in lieu of Halloween, I've come up with a beyond perfect holiday activity to support my fashion needs: chic-or-treating. Basically, I treat myself to all things chic. And now I create a list. Lists are fun, so that's that.
1) Okay, so with what seemed like a tumultuous week for everyone, I found it quite logical to purchase two tops from Club Monaco. I mean, duh, it was a tumultuous week!
2) I decided to purchase three bottles of wine based on cute/fancy labels without looking at prices. That was a huge yikes. ( I did opt to put back the $60 bottle back I had blindly selected.)
3) Lipstick. Go to Sephora, purchase the Marc Jacobs lipstick, (any shade), and thank me later. I'll throw you a "you're welcome."
4) Hit that speed dial number of your hairdresser. Tell her you need your hair deep conditioned. It's necessary. Trust.
5) I was joking for 4. Kind of. (If you do do that, please know that's fantastic and I don't judge you.)
6) Treat yourself chic on websites such as Nasty Gal, Brandy Melville, and Top Shop. My secrets are out, you're welcome.
7) Treats are chic too. French macaroons (tastes like an angels kiss ), buttery croissants, Hershey Cookies and Cream chocolate, and PUMPKIN PIE. (I didn't get the PP this year, which I find rude and...well, rude.)
8) Shoes. (Do I even need to explain? It's SHOES. The elixir to life.)
9) I may have also purchased a hat, necklace and ring from Aldo. Oopsies.
10) And of course I purchased (borrowed from dad) a book, Tim Flannery's "The Weather Makers," because the environment is très importante.
Happy chic-or-treating!
Ps. You can chic-or-treat any time of the year.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
10) And of course I purchased (borrowed from dad) a book, Tim Flannery's "The Weather Makers," because the environment is très importante.
Happy chic-or-treating!
Ps. You can chic-or-treat any time of the year.
Sincerely,
Ingrid
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