Sex & The City is a series that captured my heart early on and has continued to keep it tight in its grip, as I have watched the episodes over and over and over again through the years. Right off the bat, I felt personally affronted by this show and the characters. Plus, I lusted over countless pairs of Jimmy Choos and Manolos, Cavalli dresses and Vuitton handbags amidst years of exquisite couture.The much anticipated release of the movie is finally upon us, and I had the opportunity to watch it for the first time last night. I’m not going to do a review or a re-cap post, because I think that would be redundant at this point, especially considering that you can read two fabulous takes on the flick from a couple of the ladies I saw it with here and here. What I will say is that I absolutely adored the film. I laughed out loud at times and I cried and cried and cried at others- thankfully we had a box of Kleenex on hand.
For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, I suggest that you get your butts to a theatre near you as soon as possible. You will not be disappointed. I promise.
My fingers and toes were numb from the breeze that still felt like a spring night, despite the hot day of sun. I sat on the grass by the beach outside of my apartment before bed last night… breathing the air from the water, watching the tiny spots of clouds that scatter the skies. The brightness of the moon made everything a thousand shades of blue. These times, alone with my thoughts, these are important moments.
Photo: Betty Braun on Flickr
As I walked to yoga class with Keira in the sunshine yesterday, I was apprehensive about the pain that I could feel in my back. It was as though all of the negative feelings about myself and my body which had surfaced during our practice on Saturday had become tangled up in a knot, which had fixed itself right below my shoulder blades.
When the class began, we were reminded to focus on our breath. As soon as I made a point of doing this, of breathing into the parts of my body where I felt tension, the pain vanished. At first, I was conscious of the fact that I have a tendency to actively disparage my body. I was not going to do this. Instead, I chose to work on starting to develop a more loving relationship with my body. Towards the end of class, our instructor made mention of the fact that we should have gratitude for our bodies. We should be thankful for coming to class, for allowing our bodies and our souls to connect. I knew that she was right.
I left feeling completely fulfilled. The class was peaceful, but it also really worked my body. Yoga is a heart led practice. The role of our heart is to integrate and balance the different parts of who we are into a radiant sense of wholeness. Yoga is inclusive, not exclusive. I can’t even begin to describe how lovely it is to practice in a non-threatening, unpretentious atmosphere. I think that I needed those negative feelings to surface in class on Saturday in order to move past them. They were a blessing in a sense, because they forced me to re-focus. Right now, my emphasis needs to be on body awareness, self-acceptance, and self-love. When you remember who you are and align yourself with what is truly important to you, you can return to your true nature of health and happiness, I have found.
On our way to pick up some delicious Indian takeout for dinner (plus a couple of very tasty treats for dessert,) I felt as though peace surrounded my heart, vibrancy was beating in my soul and I could feel the glow of positivity all around me.
On Saturday morning, I attended another Hidden Language Yoga class with the ladies. I had been looking forward to it with great anticipation, because the last time was such an intense and positive experience for me. I couldn’t wait to get my butt back in there. The last time, I was overwhelmed by how connected I felt. For perhaps the first time ever in a yoga class, I felt completely comfortable in my own skin. I was able shut off my mind from external distractions and control my thoughts in a way that I had never experienced before.
This time, for whatever reason, I could not connect. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. I was extremely conscious of the pain in my knee and down my back as I moved through the postures. I found my mind wandering away from what I was supposed to be focusing on, and instead getting clouded up with feelings of dissatisfaction with my appearance. I started to feel anxiety about my body parts. As the class went on, the words I wrote down and the thoughts in my head became centered around shame over my flaws, real or imagined. This aroused a self-consciousness that I just couldn’t shake until we were doing the final relaxation phase of the class, and I was able to cover myself up with a blanket.
Photo: R054 on Flickr
Body image is something that I have ferociously struggled with for as long as I can remember. I’ve blogged about it so much that I’m sure I sound like a broken record. I’ve allowed my body to be the target of some of my harshest judgements and at times, the barometer by which I measure my self worth. I wish I didn’t do this. I wish that at 26 years old, I wasn’t still hung up on this. I am well aware that my body does not define me, and shouldn’t.
I know that the important things are who and how we love, why we believe what we do, what we give credence to, a recognition of our inner talents and joys, our spiritual values, our philanthropy, or anything else other than how we look to others. As much as I pray that it did, even knowing this doesn’t stop me from wishing that my face wasn’t so full or that I had a flatter stomach, smaller boobs or thinner thighs; but I can’t allow these distractions to be my focus or to hold me back from honing in on what’s actually important.
Over the last little while, I’ve really developed the good sense to aspire to have a fresh and inquiring mind, body, spirit and soul. I have wonderful friends around me whose positive energy and souls light up my world and inspire me constantly. I want to live a well rounded life. I need to allow my body some room to breathe; to be what it is. I want to thank it for serving me well, for walking, running, stretching, all of it. I want to thank it for being healthy and able and putting up with my ingratitude for all these years. This is where I get off the self-hating diet wheel. This is where I stop offending my body. Stop the ungratefulness. Stop the ingratitude. When I look in the mirror, I want to look and love. Look and SEE.
Filed under: celebrities, fashion, Katherine Heigl, movies, personal, personal style
…This song follows me, I swear. At one point, I had it stuck in my head for three whole months. (Remember that, Dad?) Now tonight, it’s back…I love it.
Despite the fact that it was technically a short week, it has felt like an excruciatingly long one for yours truly. Weird sleep patterns, lots of commitments and a sick tummy have left me feeling drained and exhausted.
Being that it’s finally Friday (at long last), I couldn’t wait to get home from work tonight, put on my comfies and settle in for a quiet night to myself. After preparing and then feasting on greens, some Comox Valley brie and a yummy baked yam, I curled up with a cup of tea and a blanket to watch a bonafide chick flick. Quite honestly, I can’t believe I still hadn’t seen: 27 Dresses. Oh, I’d attempted to see it on a couple of occasions while it was playing on the big screen, but fate would not have it. Tonight, on the other hand, a solo night avec girlie movie was not only my destiny, but also just what the doctor ordered.
The story is about Jane. She’s idealistic, romantic, completely selfless and absolutely unable to ever say “no” to anybody. (Ok, I could relate just a little…) Weddings are her great passion in life. She’s also single and hopelessly in love with her boss. She has been a bridesmaid twenty seven times over; but, when she meets a handsome yet cynical “Commitments” column writer (enter, hunky James Marsden), she begins to examine why her own happy ending never seems to be in sight.
I’m going to admit to you right here and now that I happen to have a soft spot for cheesy romantic comedies. I’m not going to tell you that this is some brilliant film, but it is enjoyable. As we all know, a little cheese is always good on a Friday night, so not only did this movie “melt my little black heart,” and make me laugh out loud, it also made me tear up and cry like a baby a couple of times.
Plus, leading lady Katherine Heigl is too adorable for words. So on that note, here’s a little tribute to Miss Heigl’s personal style, which I have been admiring since I first asked my mom to french braid my hair like hers’ in My Father The Hero. In my opinion, she walks the line between sexy and sophisticated better than most.
**Photos are not property of Work In Progress. All images in this post have been taken from various websites and stockpiled in the “style” archives over the years. If your photo has not been credited and you would like it to be, please e-mail me.**
Last night, I skipped down to Jules in Gastown after work to finally meet up with the delightful Melissa, who is in town for a conference. We weren’t able to connect the last couple times that I was in Saskatoon, due to my crazy showing schedule (and that little food poisoning incident) so we were super excited to finally have a chance to get together. Jules is quite a darling little French bistro. We felt as if we’d just walked off the street in Paris, even more so as the wine continued to flow. I just loved the casual, unique atmosphere. It was a perfect place to have a relaxed meal and catch up with a friend. The two of us sat in the window for over four hours, eating divine food, consuming copious amounts of delicious wine, and talking our little hearts out. The fantastic conversation was easily the best part of the night.
Photo: Source
Melissa is an absolute doll; we have more in common that you can imagine and there is no end to the things we have to talk about. There is true beauty in finding souls that you connect with. I can’t wait to get together again with this lovely lady very soon!
**Note: I absolutely hate how I look in this photo, but it’s the only one I have from the evening and Melissa looks as beautiful as ever, so I have chosen to put my vanity aside and post it anyway. That’s my very awkward “trying not to fully show my teeth cause they may be stained with red wine” smile for our waitress, who is taking the photo at the end of the night.**
Photo: MTV
Something that has always been a great mystery to me, is why some girls can be so awful to one another. I just don’t get it. What exactly is the purpose of trying so hard to make someone feel like crap? What is the need to get in shots whenever possible? Is it jealousy? Is it insecurity? A combo? Either way, it has the tendency to quite literally suck the life out of those who become victims of this type of behaviour. Not only does it get tiresome, but it can be damn hurtful. It can become increasingly difficult to keep one’s sense of self intact, even for the most well adjusted women.
Girls are biologically and socially conditioned to be nurturers who bond with each other, experts say, but the relational aspect of femininity has a powerful dark side where sugar and spice can become curry and cayenne. When underlying insecurities and the resulting rivalries flare up, the culture of girls–rather than one of supportive sisterhood–can become vicious.
“Relational aggression” is the new buzzword for girls who tease, insult, threaten, maliciously gossip, play cruel games with their best friends’ feelings and establish exclusive cliques and hierarchies in high school. Sadly, it doesn’t seem to end at that age level. I wonder if perhaps this is an outcome and result of a culture and a society that believes we are separate, that has dehumanized many of us, so that my pain isn’t yours and yours isn’t mine. It seems to become possible for some girls to look at each other as objects to be managed and controlled, and ultimately conquered. This further allows that the only thing that matters is getting what we want, and the idea that we have an inherent right to have what we want, that annihilation of any opponent by any means is acceptable. This is a view that is doomed to implode–and should– I believe.
Why are so many successful women so harshly critiqued by their own gender and held to a double standard in their accomplishments? We need a revolution in this way of being. As women, we need to love and support one another. We need to be there for our girlfriends. Unfair criticism is not being supportive. I’m sure you’ve heard the line, “a true friend will tell you when you have dirt on your face.” That being said, a true friend also won’t push your face down into the mud so you come up all covered in shit.
Enough of the cold hearted bitchetudes, ladies. Especially as I get older, I choose to surround myself with a group of kind hearted and supportive women. I haven’t chosen to cultivate friendships with people who are not of that nature. I realize and appreciate the rare and precious value in friendships that are qualitative. I pray for my own friendships to be like the ocean, with soft currents, maybe waves at times. Our deepest friendships offer a sense of continual discovery, but they can also provide a sense of consistency during years of change. I believe that we should be able to genuinely enjoy another person’s gifts, not feel threatened or envious of them, but rejoice in them as if they were our own.
It has been one jam packed long weekend, without much time to write. On Friday night, I jumped in the VW and bombed out to the ‘burbs to see Beeuwke, my friend and hair colour master who is just back from her maternity leave. To my delight, she happily pumped up my mane, and made me feel like ‘me’ again. Blondes really do have more fun, it’s true.
The ‘rents came to the city on Saturday to spend some quality time with their daughter. Sunshine, sushi and shopping. Then as a belated Mother’s Day celebration, my mom and I were off to Element Spa for Nails in Yaletown (thanks K) to be pampered for just over an hour. The two of us were treated like queens. We walked out relaxed, with beautiful hands and feet. Afterwards, we met up with my dad again for drinks on the water at Nu followed by a yummy dinner and delicious Spanish wine at Fiddlehead Joe’s. We finished up the evening with ice cream goodness from The Marble Slab. It was an absolutely perfect day.
On Sunday, I hit up H&M for some summer essentials and then it was off to my aunt and uncle’s for a big family BBQ to celebrate all the May and June birthdays.
Today, it’s dark and dreary and drops are falling from the sky, so I’m not feeling guilty about the fact that I slept in until 10am (which I never do) and have spent the rest of the morning primarily watching OZ in bed. I’m down to just four episodes remaining in the final season.
Going back to reality tomorrow is going to be tough…
Photo: Pete Woodhead on Flickr
