Should We Hold it Against Britney?

Oh, how I love Britney.  yes, THE Britney.  Regardless of how crazy she may have gone in the past few years, I do still think there's something endearing about her.  Whether it's her look, her dancing, her stylists - who knows - but you gotta love her.

That being said, I just had the chance to check out her new video.  The video is very slick and there is quite a bit of product placement - which I have no problem with.  I hate it when people get up on their high-horses about too much product placement in the world.  Well, I'm in marketing, and you better believe if Britney called to ask if she could use our logo and site for a video, I'd be rolling out the pink carpet for her.  She's wearing all Make-Up Forever; you better believe I'm making a trip to my Beauty Boutique and playing with their colours the next chance I get - because Brit Brit looks hot-hot!

Anyway, I digress - while watching the video, I'm thinking "this is fun and all, but I really can't wait for the new Gaga video".  That's the thing - Britney Spears, who WAS the Madonna of our era, has been ousted from that position as if she never even owned it - Lady Gaga is the new phenomenon; with possibly even more staying power.  And Gaga can't go crazy like Britney did - because Gaga is already crazy, and she's embracing her strangeness and making it her best selling feature.

Yes, Britney's video was slick, but it wasn't anything 'new'.  I'd put money on it right now that Gaga's video will be something we have never seen before.  And while I'm interested to go and look at the MakeUp Forever Products that Britneys' flogging - over the weekend, without even trying it on - I bought the Gaga line at MAC.  Why?  Because if Gaga's designed it - I NEED it.  (who says marketing doesn't work?)

Lady Gaga has become a style-icon for me, and a billion other people all over the world.  Would I show up to an event in an egg?  no.  Would I wear a black mask during a tv interview?  no.  But will I take chances with hats and makeup?  yes.  Lady Gaga has shown us that beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder - beauty is the confidence you find in yourself.  She's not classically beautiful - let's be honest, Britney is stunning, but I really just want to look at Gaga.

She once said "I'd rather be interesting than beatiful".  I love that.  It's given young women who aren't traditionally 'gorgeous' a chance to embrace themselves and feel worthy and attractive - to find their own look in which they enjoy. 

I also love that Gaga's sense of beauty actually causes you to think.  I wrote a few weeks ago about why we have to chose between being attractive, and being smart.  I think Gaga has made one impossible without the other in her look.  She's a brilliant marketer, she's putting revenue back in the music industry and most importantly, she's making us think.  So, I'm sorry Britney, but while you're video is great, the countdown for Gaga is on.

Battle of the Sexes

What a week this has been - I truly don't think I've ever been so busy in my entire life.  Work could be a 24 hour job right now, however, as I grow up and start looking at the world through more mature eyes, I am starting to learn that my personal life should not be brushed aside for a professional one.

A happy balance between the two is what is necessary.

One of the major reasons I have started to grow and mature in the last year to six months, as been the love, friendship, and relationship of Jared.  I will admit, the past 3 years I have been somewhat of a party girl.  I loved it.  I have no regrets at all for having plans practically every day of the week and for just having one hell of a good time.  (no drugs or stupidity - just a lot of wine and a lot of flirting).  But when Jared came into my life, I started to really see the value in having a solid homelife. 

Don't get me wrong, Jared and I still go out and experience the world, but it's "different" now, and I like it.  Staying home 3 nights a week, making dinner and watching Jeopardy has a whole new feeling when I'm curled up on the couch beside him.  And the nights we do go out and hit the town, dayum I have the best looking date in the city!

Pre-Jared (now to be known as P.J.) I also found that I had a lot more male friends - A LOT more.  Many of these guys are still friends, but it's funny how they rarely call, and now seem almost non-existent.  As where over the past six months, my relationships with female friends have really blossomed.  I've never had girlfriends like I have now.

This week alone I had two lunches, one workout and at least five phone conversations - all with females.  This would never have happened P.J.  And I really don't know why?  And my relationship with these girls seems so much more "real" then any friendship I had with any boy.  I am learning and caring about these women at a way deeper level - learning about their goals, what makes them happy, their children, boyfriends (or hubby's or fiance's), and of course, all the fun stuff too...

And I love it - because they ask about all those things from my perspective as well.  No judging, no prejuidice, no preconceptions - just pure friendship.  I never had that with a boy (okay, maybe a few gay boys), but never any of the males I hung out with P.J. 

Which brings me back to the age-old question?  Can men and women JUST be friends?  From the market research I've recently conducted, the answer is a resounding "no".  However, as we grow up our relationships with other females become a necessary, do they in fact offer a certain element into our lives that a man can not provide?  Absolutely, and without a doubt. 

A Matter of Appearances

I have been very lucky in my career as of late (...touch wood...)  In the big picture of my life thus far, I have been very lucky in my career, period.

I was never a straight-A student through Elementary and Highschool, and I co-op'd out of my last year of college so I could work in the field.  I am one of those people who can sit in a classroom for years upon years and learn nothing - but put me in the job and I absorb knowledge like it's going out of style.

Growing up I was never a great looking kid.  I wasn't horrendous by any means, but I had acne, I was a little husky and I always wanted to be one of the "popular girls" and always envied them.  So I was an average student and an average looking person.  That was fine - I didn't really see any issue with either, as long as I applied myself where it mattered and succeeded.

Well fast forward 12 years - I've worked hard in my career:  I was fazed out of my radio job and took that opportunity to find a new career.  This was something most people told me was impossible to do, as I was a broadcaster with no formal business education.  4 months after I was let go I started my job in marketing.  Over 3 years later I have evolved that role with help and assistance of a great mentor and a wonderful boss.

And over the last 12 years I have worked hard to take care of my physical self:  I work out daily, watch what I eat, invest in hair and makeup and make the most of what was given to me.  I think it's sort of ironic that Lady Gaga's new single is called "Born This Way" - because I was certainly not.  Through the trials and turbulations of evolving my education, looks and career is where I believe my personality has developed.  I haven't always been the way I am now:  it's a sense (sometimes false sense) of confidence that has made me, me.

A few weeks ago I was asked to sit on a committee for a fairly important project with the company.  This was such an honour - but there was certainly my own self-doubt coming into play.  "Am I capable of this job?" "Will I look stupid in this position?"  "Will people think I am sham?"  It's a double edged sword of emotions - am I actually good at my job?  Or have I been given a few lucky breaks? 

My first session with the group I realized I was the only female in a group of nine older businessmen.  Should I be intimidated?  Should I be quiet or speak up?  Do I have to come across as extra-smart to be taken seriously?  Or was the face that I have some validity in the industry obvious?  Or do these people think I've made it this far simply based on the way I look?  

It was suggested to me, that when I sit on the committee to "play down my pretty".  What a peculiar situation.  Who am I?  I am a business woman who has worked very hard to learn an industry and a topic that 3 years ago, I knew virtually nothing about.  I've also learned all of this despite being a somewhat decent looking human being - but now, as a young professional woman who happens to wear high heels and mascara it could be held against me?

Where do I find the happy balance?

Yesterday I went in - hair pulled back and a more muted face of makeup.  I made some valid points that I feel the group were receptive too.  I worked as a part of a team of men - not as an outsider with a group of men.  Black pants and a gray blazer, well-spoken (I hope) on a variety of issues and solutions for our industry.  Why do I have to pick either pretty or smart?  Why can't we be both?   

Home is my (clean) Castle

I love clean.  No I don't love tidy, or kind of clean, or it seems clean.  I love clean. 

If you walk into our home, and can't eat off the floors, then in my eyes it's filthy.

For many years I lived alone - and I cleaned pratically everyday.  A bit over the top?  Perhaps, but I loved walking into the house and everything shined.  My glass top coffee tables were spotless, the mirrors in the bathroom would get a daily scrub down.  And I loved it.

I knew that when Jared moved in, this would change and I would have to become slightly more leniant where cleanliness was involved.  It's not that Jared is dirty, it's just that he doesn't seem to value the incessant need for "clean-perfection" as I do.  And apparently not many people do. 

My man loves to cook - I hate it.  And it's not that I really hate cooking, it's that I hate the mess it leaves behind.  I never cooked when I lived alone.  Simply because a) I eat salad only (see statement below about weight perfection) and b) Cutting vegetables does not make a mess.  Jared however, loves it.  It's where he is creative and can be free.  It's also where he makes his biggest messes:  flour on the floor, fingerprints on the stainless steel appliances and oily feet marks on the dark hardwood floors. 

For awhile I would clean behind him as he cooked.  This did not go well - we'd just end up frustrated at one another.  Then I tried "tidying up" after him; which was fine - but it never got that perfect-shine I was after.

I tried to live with it, and I was doing alright - until this weekend.

I could not handle it anymore.

I needed perfection again.  I don't do things half assed.  Ever.  If I am going to commit to something, it's going to be 100% perfect (or at least as good as I can get it, with the tools I possess).  My constant need for perfection comes up in many aspects of my life - it's been noted in my performance evaluations with my boss, and has also been noted by loved ones by my commitment to my physical health (particularly where my weight comes into play). 

Well my weight is in check, I'm working hard at my career and being rewarded for it, and I have all-round fantastic life:  except that the house wasn't clean enough.

I will admit, had anyone other than me walked into the house, they would probably not have known the difference.  There was no bird seed on the floor, no finger prints on anything, but it needed some heart.  Only I knew it - but I didn't care.  So when Jared went to work on Sunday - I cleaned.  I scrubbed.  I got down on my hands and knees and q-tipped our floor boards to ensure there was no lurking dust.  I went into our paint and fixed up a few tiny knicks on our walls.  I vacuumed every corner - scrubbed every toilet.  It shined.

And I enjoyed that cleanliness.  I felt at peace and happy. 

Once Jared got home from work, I knew I'd have to let go to that perfection.  Of course he cooked dinner - and there were oily fingerprints on the stainless steel again and his foot marks were along the floor.

They said cleanliness is next to Godliness, but being loved from a guy who drops crumbs on your floor - is next to nothing at all - because that, my friend - is better than any clean home could ever be.

Wise Words - February 7, 2011

"The difference between style and fashion is quality.
- Georgia Armani

From Armani's Fall/Winter 2010/2011 show.

(LOVES)

Fill 'er Up

Earlier this week both Jared and I were feeling "bleh".  He, more than me.  I knew what was at the route of mine (see previous posts)... but him, I wasn't quite sure.

Although I suspectected...

...I said "you need some Gord and Ellen".  G and E are my Mom and Dad, and Jared's adopted Mom and Dad, as his parental units are in the Maritimes.  And G and E had been in Vegas for the week.

For the majority of my adult life, my parents have travelled extensively, leaving for long periods of time to explore the world. And whenever they are aware for more than a few days I miss them incessantly.  I notice it more and more as I get older, especially when they are gone for more than a week.  By about day 8 of their trip I always feel like something is "off".

I didn't feel it on this short trip, but Jared certainly did.

With J's Mom and Dad being in the Maritimes', we talk to them almost daily, but there is something about that physical interaction that just puts your heart at peace.  I always feel like when Gord and Ellen are away my heart "gas tank" runs a but under than empty.

This weekend Jared's heart was a bit under empty.

Gord and Ellen got home yesterday, and tonight we went to celebrate Gords Birthday.  Drinks, dinner and many, many laughs.  Nothing beyond that.  Okay maybe some cake and presents, but it was more about the interaction of love than the physical items of the evening.  And you know what?  It was awesome.

We were on the way home in the cab and I looked at the three most important people in my life and they all looked genuinely happy.  My Mom glowed, my Dad had his cutest little smile going, and my boyfriend had a look in his eye that only a piece of parental love could supply.

Our belly's are now full of wine and yummy food (thank you Saint Street Grill), but more obvious than anything else is that our hearts have been filled up with some much needed love. 

And now the countdown is on the way, for some Maritime love, in a few weeks.  How lucky we are to know our hearts can be filled up on both coasts of our country...

Something in the Hair Tonight

One of my worst nightmares had been happening in my life - I had lost my swagger.  There's something I have learned about myself in the past 2 or 3 years - it's not about what you wear or where you're from:  it's about how you hold yourself up. 

I've always been a generally happy person - I like to smile at people on the street and chat with folks while I'm standing in line at the grocery store.  Even on a bad make-up day I would always hold myself up like I rocked it. 

Earlier in the week I blogged about how I had been feeling like crap lately - just ugly and dowdy and how I thought it could be my hair that was holding me back.  And how unbelievably ridiculous it was that I felt this way when there's real problems in the world.

Turns out, I was right.  On Thursday night, my fabulous new stylist Ramesh gave me a fringe, and we added fun blonde extensions to the mop I had been growing.  He took out the highlights and added a gorgeous solid blonde from roots to tips.  Immediately, no seriously immediately, I felt different - like the old me again.

I left the salon, head held high, and my skin actually seemed to be glowing.  People in stores said hello to me again, and I felt a new air of energy surrounding me.  Ramesh told me that physcologists who open up offices next to hair studios don't do as well of a business.  I absolutely can understand.  Why would I pay $500 to lay on a couch and tell some stranger my problems, when I could pay $175, have an awesome few hours with a great stylish trendy hairstylist and leave looking (and therefore feeling) like a million bucks?

And you should see Jared's reaction.  I haven't changed - my face is the same, my makeup is the same, my weight is the same:  but Jared has been paying more attention to me than you'd even believe.  He says I have my attitude back.  Sad, but true.

So with my bold new hair and my outlook on life back in check, I can focus on the issues of the world - take an interest in politics and current events, read and take interest - and you know, it will be all more valuable because kg got her swagger back.

Hear That Ticking? No, me neither...

My best friend Angie has the cutest baby alive.  No, I'm serious.  He is absolutely, without a doubt one of the cutest small specimens I have ever seen in my life.

And Angie, who I have been pretty much inseperable from for years now, seems so unbelievably happy.  She honestly radiates an energy I have never seen from her before.  Not to mention her skin is perfect, her hair is shiny and she's probably the thinnest she's been since the inception of our friendship.

Motherhood seems great - and her baby just makes me smile.

But it's become more apparent to me over the past 6 months of her son's life, I don't want children.

I've ALWAYS known that I have no interest in becoming a mother.  I'm not maternal, I'm selfish and can be quite shallow, and I just really, really don't want any.  And my entire life, practically everyone around me has said "oh you'll change your mind when you meet the right guy and your friends start having babies."

Hmmm - the right guy has come along (in fact, one of my first dates with Jared he told me he didn't want children.  I knew then and there that this was the man for me), and I still don't want any.  We have a lovely home, which has more than enough room for a nursery.  No thank you.  That's the room we watch tv in.

And while a lot of my friends are so happy and thrilled to be spending their evenings at home nursing their beautiful children, Jared and I are out trying new restaurants and having martini's at cute little lounges around Vancouver.  I have no interest in giving that up.

For years I have battled a touch of guilt about not wanting any children.  Isn't it my duty as a female to want to reproduce and grow a life?  I once read an article about Kate Hudson who felt it was her only reason to be on Earth (to reproduce).  Was there something wrong with me that I didn't want that?  Was there physically something in my DNA that has made me this way?

As I've grown older, I realize "hey this is who I am".  And while my friends post beautiful baby pictures of their children on facebook, I giggle at their wobbly heads and round tummies:  oh I just want to squeeze Angie's baby and watch him grow up.  But do I want one of my own?  Still a resounding "no".

So, for now and most likely the rest of my life, I'll live motherhood through the stories of my friends.  I'll buy new clothes for the little tot's in my life and be cool Auntie kg.  And while they post photos of their sweet little bums on facebook in those outfits I bought, I'll post photos of my wardrobe, bird and adventures with Jared.  And I'm perfectly okay with that.

Hair Today. Gone Tomorrow.

I actually feel quite ridiculous.  I am in an awful, bitchy, miserable, mood.  You'd think it's perhaps due to the sadness in the media right now - over the weekend I could barely pull myself away from CNN I was so intrigued and interested in Egypt.  And Monday and Tuesday there were no words to express the disgust I felt with the massive dog slaughter in Whistler.  But no, that is not why I am in such a disgusting mood... it's my hair.

I can't handle it any longer.

For years now, I have donned the short Victoria Beckham "Pob" and then last year I rocked out that sweet short cut that Rihanna did.  When you have short hair you really start to admire "the updo".  You watch your besties pull their hair back into cute little ponytails... and you just do the same thing everyday with a short do' (with the exception of a rockstar headband or barette, now and again).  It was time to grow out my hair.

Anyone who has gone from short hair to the long stage, can agree, it's awful.  Actually, I think it's embarassing.  There are literally days that I try to think of excuses to not go to anywhere too cool or too trendy in Yaletown or elsewhere, simply because my hair is such a disgrace.  And now, I'm rocking split ends, gross roots and just an all-round unsexy look.

So I have made a fairly significant investment in hair extensions and tomorrow I go to a new hairstylist.  Which is just adding an additional layer of "ick" into my life.  The hairstylist I've had for ten years is a serious star.  She has given me so many great looks I could puke - but a stylist who I know through contacts, was looking for a blonde, so I volunteered myself.  He has styled my hair before and I loved it - but this is the first time someone "new" is cutting and dyeing my hair for the first time in over a decade.

Yikes.

We had our consultation last week and I'm pretty stoked about it.  He works in a super fun salon and he is absolutely "fabulous".  When I told him I wanted bangs, he hit me in the head and said "that's a bang, you want a fringe".  I think I was hooked on that one comment.   Alas, tomorrow the extensions are put in, the roots disappear, and fringe is added.  I think I'm so excited that I might not sleep tonight - like a 6 year old before Santa.

Except my version of Santa will make me feel sexy and pretty again - and once he's done with me, I can actually focus on the REAL problems of the world.