Two things came together in the past week that have had me thinking about what I wear, and what it says, and if I care.
Took a brief hiatus to focus more on paid writing but you all were never far from mind. No fair blaming me for that — if you all paid me, these last three sentences would have added about $50 to my bank account. Insert unironic smilie here.
We’re back, with this: the host of a local current affairs program took to the show’s blog to say some mind-bogglingly obtuse comments about why it’s hard to book women for his show.
I like to imagine — usually when I’m in the shower, accepting my Nobel Prize for literature — that I was the inspiration behind Oxford’s word of the year.
After all, I’m just a few days away from (successfully!) wrapping up my first-ever 365 project, which involved taking a self-portrait a day, every day this year. And because I’m more likely to win a Nobel Prize for narcissism, I ended up using these self-portraits to switch up my Facebook profile pic every day, too.
In the last week, a few different people have asked if I’m going to continue the project (answer: TBD) and some have asked for advice on doing a similar challenge of their own.
I don’t really have a lot of advice to give. I mean, you take a picture of yourself every day for a year: BOOM, you’re done. But in case any of this might actually be useful, here are a few tips:
1. You’re more than just a pretty face
When taking the photos, I tried to include my face as much as possible. If any governmental authority was snooping, all I can say is HA HA HA HA HA (also: sorry I melted your server). That said, there were some days when other body parts — or even shadows — served instead:
2. The mirror is your friend
Nah, I don’t mean making sure that you don’t have kale stuck between your teeth, although there’s an easy fix for that: quit eating like a hipster pony. When you have to take this many photos, you’re going to need to mix it up occasionally and reflective surfaces (not just mirrors) can be a big help:
3. Best supporting actors
Got cute kids? Conscript them. Got cute pets? Well, they’re probably not as cute as you think they are, but sure, add them in, too. Spouses, friends, friendly mail carriers … all good. Just be sure that you properly calibrate the required level of cute before committing to a photo (ie: if you’re looking wretch, you’ll want attractive distractions; if you’re looking great, try fugly friends for contrast). Some ideas to get you started:
4. Hats help
I’m not really a hat person. I am however, a person who sufferers from random bouts of hat hair (even when I don’t wear a hat, in which case I do wear a hat).
5. Be your damn self
I’m pretty funny in real life. I’ve never won an award for it or anything, so it’s entirely possibly I’m funnier online (I did win an award for that). Not surprisingly, except for a few really genuinely pretty photos, the funny ones were the ones that people liked best. Here are a few of my favourites:
You may have noticed some crossover between categories: shadows that are also reflections, hats that are also funny. Congratulations, you have unlocked Level 10 of Observant Pedantry. This project is perfect for you … trust me.
We were living in Webequie, Ontario. Joe Clark was Prime Minister. Despite regular calls home to her family, who kept her apprised of all the local gossip, no one ever told my mom there’d been an election. Which is why, to this day, she’ll slap you if you try to turn the channel during the news.
Got this challenge from my friend Geoff and even though it’s supposed to be “played” on Facebook, I knew I was going to have too much to say. So here’s the extended response to this pretty straightforward challenge:
A week or so ago, I found out about an event — a fundraiser — for my political party of choice. I saw the invitation and decided quickly that it wasn’t for me. Last night, the rest of Twitter saw the promotional piece and promptly asploded. Here’s the item in question:
It’s not the prettiest beach in the city. It’s somewhat secluded, even a tidge creepy. And today, home to some home-grown bow-chicka-wow-wow action.
This time last week I arrived home from an afternoon at the wading pool to discover … ah … well, here’s how I described in a text message to P: