À nos amours (or: I want to dress like a Parisian teenager circa 1983)

Last night we watched À nos amours, a French film by Maurice Pialat made in 1983. Sandrine Bonnaire (who I loved in Vagabond) stars as Suzanne, a 15-year-old Parisian who "embarks on a sexual rampage in order to separate herself from her overbearing, beloved father, ineffectual mother, and brutish brother." Or so says the DVD case. Honestly, I was able to understand little more than the barest skeleton of the story. I didn't even realize her brother was her brother until the film was almost over. Still, I was in love with the film from the first frames. It is absolutely gorgeous. It is one of those rare films that I wanted to watch again immediately as the credits came up (preferably with subtitles).

While the whole film was more than amazingly composed, the costuming was complete outfit porn. I was plunged into a state of aching lust. Coral red and teal and grey and blue and perfectly loose t-shirts with flared skirts and heels and geometric patterns and cuffed jeans and oh oh oh.

I knew I was a goner when Suzanne appeared in this perfect, simple summer day outfit:


Then came the one shouldered striped black and white top with a flared black skirt and white sandals. I couldn't get a very good shot of this one, but trust me:

Here is the outfit Suzanne wears most of the time. I love cardigans. I especially love this cardigan. And a grey-on-grey striped t-shirt with a drapey grey miniskirt? Um, YES:


This was one of my favourite moments in the film. And my favourite pair of shoes:

I may have said something like "oh mon dieu" when Suzanne appeared in this outfit. It was mostly because of the red boots. You can only see a tiny sliver of them in this shot:


The red boots are more visible here. I also love her friend's outfit. That tulip skirt. The deep scoop neck. And the french mannequins:


Okay. I adore this sweater. Teal and coral at THE SAME TIME. With black. Although I would probably wear it with pants. Or at least shorts. But that's just me:

And finally. Forget lust. I am completely and utterly and forever in love with this dress.  Love. I don't think a still shot can do this dress justice. You have to see her in it. The print. The simple belt. The perfect little squared pockets. The way the skirt drifts away from her body. The ease. Sigh.

L'amour.

Confidence aka the decision

One part 1920s Parisienne, one part monk, one part four-year-old, and one part fashion. I love it. Oddly enough, I feel eminently more feminine with short hair. And free. And stylish. If only springtime would arrive so I could pair it with cute dresses, and stop ruining the effect with my stompy snow and salt-stained winter boots.

I also decided to try the recent tip I found via A Cup of Jo on how to look confident in pictures (hint, it involves a mysterious chemical food product). I think it works, especially when combined with taking 8000 pictures and sorting through them meticulously.

Lady Gaga Hair (and others)

Okay, I don't really want to admit how much time I spent playing with this makeover site this morning (and afternoon, ahem). It's way too addictive and time consuming, but you get to try things like Lady Gaga hair. And Rihanna hair. Um, awesome? Yes. 

The highlights (so to speak): 

Zooey Deschanel.

 

Random long hair... not sure who. 

 

Gretchen Moll.

Parker Posey.

Jackie Warner.

 Jenna Malone.

So basically this shows me (in my opinion) that I look infinitely cuter with short hair. The long hair all made me look... blah (I know, I have a fantastic vocabulary. Thanks.). The shorter hair makes me look... more alive? I'm not sure what it is - probably the fact that it brings the focus to my eyes. Anyways, I think the reign of long hair is about to end. I'm still hanging onto it a little, though. Why?

My Type

What type are you?

I sort of knew this day was coming...

This time it's Carey Mulligan.

I absolutely adored her in An Education, and she's been all over my celebrity radar this awards season, wandering around with Shia Labeouf, looking adorable with her goddamn super-hot cropped hair.

I really thought I had made it. In the recent past, I even thought to myself, wow. I'm really pleased that I'm enjoying long hair. I haven't missed short hair at all. 

And now this.

Before Carey it was Michelle.

And before her, countless others, winding on to way back when, the one who started it all, Drew.

Sigh. I've had this feeling before. Many, many times. It comes on so suddenly. I'm wandering along, perfectly content, then wham: short hair short hair short hair short hair. It looks so cute. And gamine. And free.

I haven't fully 100% given up on long hair yet, but I think you can tell where my heart lies.

Curly hair

My hair is currently the longest it has been in 15 years. For a long time, short hair was somewhat integral to the way I saw myself and my style. I was short hair. Then I worked in a hair salon, and got to see the ladies with their big, bouncy blow-outs, and I got a little bit envious. I remember talking with the salon manager, and her advice was to grow my hair out before I turned 30, and keep it long until I was at least 50. So I did. For the first time in my life I have had no real cravings for short hair, and I've really been enjoying playing with my hair: a flat iron, velcro rollers, and so on.

And today: a curling iron.

I've been wanting to buy one for months and months, and for some reason hadn't been willing to shill out the 16.99 (plus tax) for the Conair Instant Heat 1 inch ceramic curling iron... but one day, after gazing at it longingly, I decided to just buy it already. And today I started experimenting.

Things I learned: Don't use the tong part. I started out using it the way I assumed you were supposed to, clamping down on the bottom of the hair and curling up. No. The "new and cool" way to do it is to wrap the hair around the barrel of the curling iron, not letting the tong part touch the hair. You can see what the heck I'm talking about here.

In other news: I am craving good french toast.

Ange goes high fashion.

Guest blogging over at Fashionable People, Questionable Things. My first post (on fashion uniforms) is up today. Yay.

Labyrinth

I watched Labyrinth tonight, and as I watched I was struck by two things.

One: Sarah's outfit is almost exactly what I see on 18 year old girls all over campus every day. The sleeves are maybe a little extreme, but aside from that, these girls might be carbon copies.

Two: Jareth the Goblin King was probably my first encounter with sex and danger so intertwined in a character. I'm not sure how old I was the first time I saw the film, but I must have been pretty young, and I'm pretty sure it must have had a major impact on my psyche, romantic and otherwise.

See both here:

When I am an old woman I shall wear black.

Hello people: only one and a half days left of my summer job, just under seven days left in Vancouver, and 29 days left until I start classes again in September.

What does this mean?

Back to school shopping (I'm pretty sure I will call it that for the rest of my life, even when *appalled gasp* I am not in school).

Almost all I can think about is clothes.

At the top of my list: casual yet sharp looking blazer.

Also: Black skinny jeans.

Also: Getting rid of everything that doesn't feel (and look) fantastic, and that I don't love.

I have been scouring the internet for a good rundown of a "capsule wardrobe." This Real Simple checklist is pretty good.

What else? What do you want?

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod

I have to have the ampersand necklace featured here. How am I going to get it? Oh no. Want. Want.

(found via oh joy!)

An open letter to Mindy Kaling, in celebration of the return of thingsiboughtthatilove, which has actually been back for a while, but I just found out

Dear Mindy Kaling,

Your blog makes me laugh out loud. Often.

I like you (the idea of you, at least) a lot. Way to go. I'm picky.

xo,
Ange

Back in Vancouver

Photo by Flickr user Spatial Mongrel

I've been back in Vancouver for the past few days, and am still on a high from the ridiculous amount of beauty to be had in this city. Any time anyone asks me about Halifax my response is something along the lines of: "Mumble mumble... look at the trees... look at the mountains... sigh..." The cherry blossoms aren't as full as in the picture above (they've mostly all fallen, or are in the process of falling, which is its own kind of lovely), but the green is all there.

Today I had a delightfully Vancouver-y day, replete with Japanese things. First, for lunch, Japadog, accompanied by an iced matcha latte at Blenz. Then (after voting - yay! That deserves an exclamation mark) Japanese food for dinner. So fresh. So affordable (compared to Halifax). Miso soup at my favourite Halifax sushi place costs $4.50. At my favourite Vancouver sushi restaurant? $1.50. And the rest of the menus shows similar divergences. Anywho: Vancouver food = still delightful.

I started my summer job yesterday. So far it is going really well. It is a very small office, and I really enjoy the people I am working with. Plus I get to wear jeans. I kind of hope I never have a job where I can't wear jeans. I love jeans. I want more jeans. Jeans jeans jeans.

That is pretty much all. Just wanted to check in.

Adorable asian haircuts

For all the short haired people (or people who want to be short haired) I absolutely love this hair website.

The long haired pictures are (sigh) all fairly boring, lots of curly ends and bangs, but then that's because long hair is boring. The short hair section, however, is packed full of the most adorable little haircuts ever.

Tone on tone

I've been noticing little things, lately. Subtleties.



Braids are what all the cool kids are doing these days. I love being surrounded by 18-year-olds.

Except when they use words I've never head before. Like biddy. Of course I've heard the word biddy before, but when I hear it I think of old ladies who are a little bit cranky.

It's slang, apparently, for girls you hook up with, randomly-ish, not seriously. At least, that's what I've gathered. I feel like an explorer in a new world sometimes.

It snowed today.

So I went out and bought a springtime lipstick.


I like pictures where my eyes are closed.

(p.s. it's MAC slimshine lipstick in lovey-dove.)

Holy Grail

I may or may not have spent thirty dollars on an eye shadow the other day.

I spent a lot of time cruising around makeupalley.com. Any time I'm in the market for makeup (or any beauty products) I try to go on there to see how people have reviewed whatever it is I'm thinking of buying. People on there have their own language, and one of the first terms I deduced the meaning of was HG. Holy grail. As in, this is the best blanketyblank I have ever used and I will keep buying it for the rest of my life. Before yesterday, I had never had one of those moments.

Enter Shu Uemura eye shadow in ME Brown 850. (Choir of angels sings here.) It has an overall rating of 4.9/5. I somehow discovered it on the internet and decided I had to have it, so almost two months ago I went to the Shu Uemura (I love saying that name) counter in Holt Renfrew and asked about it. They put me on a waiting list. A waiting list. It came in on Sunday, I picked it up. It cost thirty dollars (with tax). I was a little overwhelmed. I brought it home. I put it on. Holy cow. Holy grail. It is the most perfect eye shadow I have ever worn. A shimmery taupe with the faintest hint of violet that brings out the green in my eyes. When I put it on, it makes it look like I have naturally beautiful, shimmery, colourful eyelids. Tasteful. Lovely. All the boys will like me.

Ahem.

Alright, so it probably won't change my life, but it does make me feel nice. And, while lots of people my age easily spend $30 in a bar every night, I rarely do. So I don't feel too bad for spending it on an eyeshadow once in a while.

Face Hunter

This is not me. Sadly.

I go back and forth in life between wanting to look effing cool (like, you know, art school dropout mixed with Scandinavian heiress) and just wanting to wear a uniform of, say, jeans and a white t-shirt and ballet flats every day. I usually lean more towards the latter, because as an Aquarius (yes, I'm blaming astrology here) I like to move on to the next thing very very often, so if I shop according to my whims I am left with bags of fuzzy brown sweater dresses and lime green elbow gloves that all make their way to the clothing drop off, having wasted some hundreds of dollars in the process. So most often I go very very simple in my clothing, and keep my varied tastes aligned to things like movies, books, and food.

But. I can appreciate amazing style, and amazing fashion, and I love other people who look effing cool. You can find many of them here.

(This blog came by way of (Into) the Fray, where Lady Smaggle commented, and I followed the link to her blog, where she led me to Face Hunter. Just in case you wanted to know.)

For you

So here are my slightly uneven, homemade bangs. For you. What I realized though, is that while I do think I look nice with bangs, you can't see my eyebrows. I think I like eyebrows even more than bangs... but I don't really like super short bangs on me, which would give me both, so I will just have to go back and forth between the two for the rest of my life. Sigh.

The things I do for you.