Clarity Is Found Beside YSL.

Surrounded by discount clothing, the one thing that cannot be discounted was how I felt. Left feeling confused by my summer F*&k it list, I resigned from two positions and went on my way to “happiness”. Was happiness really what I received? For the only thing that has been fully received was a major dent…

You Are What You Eat….

The summer sun has risen over the cobble stones of Toronto’ Distillery District. Sitting on my balcony I gaze down at the people donning this seasons styles that keep up with the new found warmth. I have begun looking at life differently over the past couple of days. I will not lie, I am usually…

Facebook Friends or Faceless Avatars.

Snow falling on the cobble stone, I stand on the balcony looking out onto the city. Sipping on my morning coffee, I think of the future. Opening the Facebook app on my phone, I take a look at my 1,500 Facebook friends. Does this mean anything to me? are these people actually friends or are…

The Good, The Bad, and The Slutty.

After a week of fashion shows and an underwhelming award show, I head back to my homeland of Narnia for an Easter weekend with the family.  Spending the evening watching Project Runway with Americano, I sit back relax and enjoy the big dinner ahead of me.  Flakes of snow fall to the ground on this…

Fashion Week for the Fashion Weak.

Fashion week, a time where Toronto’ best dressed struts down King West. Taking over the entertainment district of Toronto, World Mastercard Fashion Week brings the fashion elite to the city, and style from the runway to the streets. The chilly bite of the Canadian Climate brings a light snowfall onto the carpet. Besides the fact…

Check Mate.

The final drag, the last drink, the parting kiss and the final goodbye.  These moments of closure can stay with you for years to come, yet you will never forget the adrenaline rush of what once brought you happiness. It is quite ironic how the human body is able to forget all memory of pain,…

Strategic Thinking & A Big Personality.

Sitting cross-legged on my couch, laptop on my lap and textbooks skewed around me,I begin to write my final essay for my Philosophy of Love and Sex class. Surrounded by nearly a dozen empty Starbucks cups, I attempt to sort through my views on the concept of Romantic Love. Irving Singer, a tiny, seemingly materialistic philosopher…

Love Insurance not included.

The swift glide of the pen over the lines as I begin to write. Today I put away the typewriter and picked up the pen; it is a real shame how dreadful my penmanship has become over the years of my sole reliance on technology. As another Valentine Day has come and gone, the search…