megfowler.com

But as we sat out on the deck tonight, it seemed that a camera would be necessary.

Dear everyone,

It’s Saturday. Mmmm.

Last night, I turned on the fireplace and lay down on the couch around 6:30 p.m.

I hadn’t had coffee ALL DAY.

Whoa.

Then, apparently, I fell asleep.

I woke up at 11:30 pm, which is about five hours, and approximately the standard amount of time I can usually manage to slumber overnight.

But this didn’t stop me… no way.

I went to bed.

And slept until 8 am.

Then I got up, had a glass of water, brushed my teeth, checked my email, texted, and…

… went back to bed.

Until 11 am.

THAT IS THE BEST USE OF 17 hours EVER.

My body had been ill and crashy all week, with my iron, blood sugar and hydration levels out of whack. It needed to just… go down.

AND I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW GOOD I FEEL RIGHT NOW.

**small interruption**

Cath was just heading out the door to see a friend and her baby, and our neighbours came out with their baby. We got to hold the baby! Wait, that deserves caps. WE GOT TO HOLD THE BABY.

Presley is gorgeous! WAHOO! And in pink. With sticky-uppy hair.

**end of transmission**

We’ve already walked to the Green Circle of Love this morning, so I’m covered for caffeine for the day. Maybe. See how much I’ve accomplished?

Now, I’m going to shop for persimmons and pomegranates and reorganize my life and do things and stuff that further appeal to my OCD/latent health nut tendencies.

And maybe sleep some more. WAHOO!

Hope everyone has such sparkling, sunny fall weather today. Orange leaves blew in our faces on our way back from The Circle and we stopped and shrieked at the goodness of it all.

XOXO,

Meg

(Editor: IS THIS NOT THE CUTEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED)

The ambience is not hardwood, quiet music, order, attentive salespersons or manly fragrances – but the prices are great!

If a man is willing to go over to the dark (well, less lit) side in shopping for clothing then the place to enter is a well supplied thrift shop, or perhaps a genuine outlet store.

My thrift shop of choice is Goodwill, specifically the Goodwill Shop in Bellingham, WA. There are Goodwill shops located throughout the Northwest so the donor base is large, and apparently affluent and possessed of some sense of style.

If you are willing to search each rack for the true bargains you will discover some well-made, classic (meaning always in style) items that will serve you for perhaps longer than they served their original owners.

When considering the purchase of used (pre-owned) clothing there are certain things to examine.

Four cautions: first, look for labels you trust (I watch for Brooks Brothers, Polo by Ralph Lauren, Nautica, Eddie Bauer, Lands End, L. L. Bean, J. Crew, Gap and a few others, because this clothing is usually well constructed of quality fabrics and will still be in style even if it is a few years old); second, look for stains that are obviously not going to be removed by washing or dry cleaning (that’s a common reason why the item has been given away); third, look carefully for holes, particularly in sweaters (hold them up to the light to see if moths have dined on the garment); and fourth, search very, very carefully and always look at size labels (thrift shops are not too careful about making sure the right size garments are in the right section – and with suits check the labels in the inside coat pockets to see if the coat is a short, regular or long/tall).

Now, some specific tips.

With suits, sport jackets and blazers look inside the coat for wear around the pocket edges and for staining around the arm holes. Check all of the pockets for holes and tears (and unusual contents). Next check around the inside of the collar for any discoloration, and then look at the elbows to see if the fabric is worn to a state of shininess.

Also look at the underside of the armholes on the outside of the coat for stains. Then make certain that all of the buttons match, and that there are the same number of buttons on both cuffs.

With the trousers look for stains inside the crotch, and then for exterior stains on the seat and back of the legs. Look at the waistband to see if it is still rigid or has it been too often bent in half by someone overweight? Also look at the bottom of both legs for fraying on the edges of the cuffs or plain bottom. If the rear pockets have button holes then make sure that the buttons are in place.

If you are satisfied with what you see at this point try the jacket on. If you can button the jacket without creating a large X across your front then next determine if the sleeves are the proper length. Sleeves that are too long can be shortened by a tailor. Sleeves that are too short are too short, and even if you cut them twice they will still be too short. Look at the back of the collar to see how it lies.

A slight roll at the back of the collar can also be corrected by a tailor.

Next, try on the trousers (first, make sure you are in a dressing room). If the waist is too large a tailor can draw it in (as long as the alteration will not bring the rear pockets together). If the pants are too long they can be shortened. If the pants are too short they can only be lengthened if there is sufficient material in the cuff or bottom.

However, keep in mind that if the trousers have been cleaned and/or pressed in their current state too often, then any lengthening will still leave marks of the original cuff. These checks apply to khakis, chinos, jeans and other trousers as well.

When looking at shirts look carefully for fading and fraying at the cuff edges and the edges of the collar. Also look for discoloration on the inside of the collar. Then check all of the buttons to ensure they are the same. If a button is missing many quality shirts have 2 or 3 extra buttons sewn on the bottom of the placket. Also check for stains at the armpits.

Again, with sweaters, look for holes, stains and especially for stretching. Try on the sweater as well.

One of the reasons many garments end up being donated to thrift shops is wrong labeling for size. Someone buys a pair of 38/32 pants, gets home and discovers that they are actually 38/30. That’s why they were in T. J. Maxx in the first place. The person is either too lazy or unable to return the pants and so just donates them to the thrift shop. It is not uncommon to find items in the thrift shops that still have their original store labels intact. They have never been worn.

Here are three outfits assembled from one thrift store (Goodwill) and outlet stores.

Outfit # 1

3 button, 100% cotton jacket, by Nautica (Goodwill, $12; Original retailer, $250)

White oxford-cloth shirt, by Brooks Brothers (Goodwill $5; Original retailer $70)

Silk tie, by DKNY (Goodwill $2 (new); Original retailer, $45)

***

Outfit # 2

3 button wool blazer, by Jos. A. Banks (Goodwill , $10; Original retailer, $400)

Blue oxford cloth shirt, Polo by Ralph Lauren (Goodwill , $5; Original retailer, $60)

Silk bow tie, Polo by Ralph Lauren (Nordstrom Rack , $12; Original retailer, $65)

Khakis, by Land’s End (Goodwill, $6; Original retailer, $45)

Tasseled kiltie loafers, by Johnston & Murphy (Nordstrom Rack, $35; Original retailer, $145)

***

Outfit # 3

Barn Coat, by Cricketeer (Goodwill , $12; Original retailer, $75)

Wool shawl collared sweater, by Eddie Bauer (Goodwill, $7; Original retailer, $60)

Cotton canvas shirt, Polo by Ralph Lauren (Goodwill, $4; Original retailer, $55)

Cotton corduroy pants, Polo by Ralph Lauren (Goodwill, $6; Original retailer, $80)

Leather belt, by Timberland (T. J. Maxx, $12; Original retailer, $40)

Cap toe lace-ups, by Florsheim (Florsheim Outlet, $30; Original retailer, $110)

TOTAL my dad spent: $158

TOTAL it could have cost, were he not awesome: $1500

Know your sizes. Try things on. You too can enjoy a savings of close to 90%!

This comes to us from one of the smarter women on the Internet. Maybe the smartest. But I’m willing to keep the door open for someone else, lest they contribute to Learn THIS!

Sheryl helps you with a classic driving dilemma:

I am the quintessential parallel parker, and I my heart breaks when I see those poor putzes angling and re-angling, pulling in and out like a pool player with a nervous tic. So if you (a) drive a car and (b) live in a city, I’ve come to your aid. You’re welcome.

1. Don your driving gloves. What? No driving gloves? Well, I suppose it can be done without them. (Sheesh, what kind of readership do you have here, Meg? Next you’ll be telling me they eat french fries with their fingers.)
2. Pull your car parallel to the car in front of the space you want to back into. Inch up so that you’re seat is just ahead of the other driver’s windscreen.
3. Cut the wheel all the way to the right, and back up.
4. When you’re about halfway in the space cut the wheel halfway to the left, and back up as far as you can.
5. Straighten the wheel and pull forward.
6. Dab your forehead with your linen hankie, and pull the flask of vodka from your glove box, your task is completed.

Thanks, Sheryl! Did you just say “windscreen”?

You kooky Americans. Always thinking it’s cold and frosty up here in Canada. If I had a nickel for every igloo joke I’ve heard from one of y’all, I’d be able to go buy a latte. Instead of just thinking about it.

So, here for you, “How It Really Is In Vancouver.”

And some photos of my locale:

A series of views from my deck…

A view from a restaurant in nearby Horseshoe Bay…

A view from my favourite beach, near Dundarave…

And one from White Rock Beach, near my parents (taken by my dad.)

See? NO SNOW.

But Mr. Reynolds didn’t look THIS good at the time:

Now, I don’t know if it’s because I grew up with an impeccably-groomed father, but I can’t quite get why men are so afraid of wearing suits. At least five of my male friends have bitched at me about suits lately. FIVE. And I don’t want to hear it anymore!

SUITS ARE NOT OF THE DEVIL.

I LOVE MEN IN SUITS.

Seriously.

Woo!

Suits don’t make you look stiff. Does he look stiff? NO. He looks elegant. And not just because he’s all tall and slim and well-dressed. Because he’s carrying himself with pride.

Suits are not supposed to be uncomfortable. If you’re uncomfortable, you’re in the wrong damn suit.

And no, suits don’t make you look like your dad or a salesman, unless you GOT the suit from your dad or you ARE a salesman.

And NO, SUITS ARE NOT DESIGNED TO ROB YOU OF YOUR INDIVIDUALITY. Do you know how many combinations of styles, colours, cuts, fabrics, and looks you can put together? You can look like you! You can feel like you… only slightly more put together for the right occasion.

My only quibble with Mr. Reynolds here is that… well, he stars in crap movies. That, and his pants are a bit short. I don’t know if that’s even a shade of wool I really like, but there’s something about it that works.

Here’s my firm belief: Every man should have at least one decent suit!

Everyone will go to a funeral or a wedding or a court case or a really good restaurant at some point in their lives.

Why be a schmuck about dressing for it? SO….

MEG’S RULES FOR MEN WHO WANT TO DRESS UP AND IMPRESS THE MEG

• Cheap suits will always feel cheap, unless you’re just getting a really decent suit on sale. Linen is tough to keep looking fresh, but wool (summer weight or otherwise) is always a good bet. I wouldn’t even go for a blend. Stick with a single fiber unless you buy a lot of suits or sportcoats and trousers.
• DON’T BUY A COLOURFUL SUIT. Leave the sage and the burgundy and the odd blues, etc. for Vegas entertainers and car salesmen. Most men will get the most wear (and look the best) in a navy, gray, black, or tan suit. Brown is pretty damn tough to rock, though, regardless of the neutrality of the shade, so proceed with caution. Note: pinstripes can be pretty damn hot with charcoal or navy suits. Huzzah!
• Double-breasted suits make most men look like mafia kingpins or OJ Simpson lawyers. If you’re an OJ lawyer, SHAME. If you want to wear one anyway, don’t do up all the buttons, for the love of Pete. You look trussed! A nice two- or three-button suit is your best bet for comfort and elegance.
• If you are crazy skinny, you can wear pleats in your suit pants. Otherwise, they will bunch up like you’re wearing an adult diaper. And if you’re wearing an adult diaper, well, ok. I just want you to be comfy. Wear whatever you want.
• The whole matching-tie-and-shirt thing is a bit Regis. Monochomatic is always a good idea for looking sleek, but this vibe has been done, done, and done again. If you can’t match anything, your best bets are a white or light-blue shirt (oxford cloth, decent cotton, NO POLYESTER) with a nice tie. Leave patterns and stripes for later on in your fashion progression. And nothing shiny (except perhaps the sheen of the silk in your tie.) A shiny shirt is good for ballroom dancing competition, David Copperfield and NOTHING else. And even HE should make himself disappear.
• Novelty ties are about the most un-novel things on the planet. I don’t trust men in funny ties. I assume they are assassins. Get a solid colour, a stripe, or a pattern that doesn’t make people have seizures if they catch a glimpse of you across a room.
• Your pants need to be long enough. Your pants need to be long enough. Your pants should not be too long. Your pants should not be too long. I said both things twice because they are IMPORTANT. Cuff or no cuff? I don’t care. But your pants should break or bend at the seam about 3/4 of the way down your leg. That means that they rest gently on the tops of your shoes without flooding them.
• Get a jacket that fits you comfortably, and with sleeves that you can bend your arms in and shoulders that you can move in. Too big, and you’ll be floating. In fact, you’ll look like you’re wearing Dad’s suit. Which you might be, actually. Too small, and you’re the bassist for a neo-new wave band. Which is fine. But unless you’re doing New Order covers, loosen up!
• Your shirt collar should let you run a finger comfortably underneath, all the way around your neck. No portion of neck should bunch over your collar. OW.
• Novelty socks are for assassins. Patterns are fine. WHITE SOCKS ARE NOT. Keep your feet low key, and for the love of everything that is good and holy, wear a decent lace up or slip on shoe in leather (or decent faux leather for the PETA peeps.) If your shoes are a mess, shine them up, or get someone to do it for you. Nothing ruins a nice look like missing those little details. Wear a belt that matches or doesn’t clash, and you’re set.

And finally?

The only way to know what really looks good on you is to go try things on. In a reputable shop. With an actual man with an actual tape measure standing around to help you out.

Did you hear me? GET YOUR SUIT TAILORED. Seriously. It’s just a few more bucks, and you end up looking like a MILLION bucks.

If you don’t know where to go, ask people who look good (in your office, on the street, at the opera, at the hockey game, on the bus, wherever) where they go to shop, or who does their alterations. Not only will you flatter them (or freak them out horribly, but usually only if you try and touch them), but you’ll get good insider info.

And just to be clear, taking a woman with you is not an ironclad guarantee that you will make wise fashion choices. Woman do not have innate style. Women wear gauchos and slouch boots and half-t’s and floral jumpers.

At the end of the day, knowing the basics and getting comfortable with suit-wearing is the only way you’re ever going to stop scoffing about it or feeling like you’ve dressed up as a mortician for Halloween. Then you can start adding the details that make you feel more at ease (NO NOVELTY ITEMS, ASSASSIN) and putting your own finishing touches on everything.

Remember, it’s your body, your face, your hair… everyone’s still going to know it’s you, anyway. And if your clothes are the most prominent thing about your look, you’re probably being worn by THEM anyhow, and not vice versa.

And yes, I understand that different people want to look like different things. Go nuts. Really. Embrace your style. Be mad crazy and fun.

But get a sense of occasion as well. Show people respect in how you carry and present yourself when a certain kind of decorum is what’s called for. A little grace goes a long, long way.

Even the edgiest, most counter-culture boys I know have ended up liking how they looked in a suit that, well… suited them.

Granted, one of those suits was orange, but some rules were made to be broken, right?

Heh. I love irony.

And boys in suits.

(Also? Sticky-uppy boy hair. LOVE THAT. Not the gelled spikes or the Pee-Wee forehead wave, but the product-y swooshitude Mr. Reynolds is pulling off here. MMM.)

Every day I put stuff up on this blog, and people read it.

Or at least they come to the page and stare at the screen.

That’s all I can really verify. Except for the people that comment on the posts, everyone might be going, “Well, I have no idea what the blazes she’s talking about.”

And that, my friends, would be cool, too.

But I want to learn about you, the people that have ended up here. By intention, by chance, by government-sponsored torture… however, really. I like to do this now and again. It’s pretty illuminating and snuggly and stuff like that.

SO.

If you have read this entry, you need to now bring your personal magic to the comments by replying to the following questions.

REALLY. SERIOUSLY. DO IT. IT’S FUN.

And in doing so, you become an automatic part of a true community: The People Who Come To This Web Site.

Sound illustrious? No? Well, dammit. Do it anyway.

1. What’s your first name? Or if you refuse to tell because you have some cool internet “handle”, what do you wish it was or like it to be?
2. What the heck do you do for a living? And if you don’t know what you do for a living, what would you LIKE to be doing for a living?
3. How the heck did you end up here?
4. Do you know my middle name? Or did you before this comment stream?
5. Are you freaked out by the term “comment stream”?
6. Why do you spend time online? Work? Play? eBay? Blogging? YouTube addiction?
7. If you are a blogger, why do YOU blog?
8. Tell us why you live where you live.
9. Tell us your all-time favourite thing to eat.
10. Tell us your all-time favourite place to go.
11. Tell us your all-time favourite thing to do.
12. Tell us a song you’d recommend we listen to.
13. Are you wearing pants?
14. Tell us what you’d like to see more of on MegFowler.com.
15. Can I have your lunch?
16. Give me, Meg, one piece of advice that will change my whole life.
17. Why the heck did you answer all these questions?

Vancouver and I have a bit of a thing going on right now.

Not a good thing, mind you, though this is a good city and I’m a good girl and there is much goodness to be had.

No… we’re in a wee bit of a spat, and it revolves around the weather.

As you know (and have seen!) I bought shoes last week.

Structured shoes!

Pointy shoes!

Shoes with heels!

I think my feet went into shock the second I put them on.

“But! But! Where are our PROPER SHOES? The ones that make the FUN NOISE? The SOFT SHOES?”

They really, really missed their flip flops. But I was determined to be a grown up and make this wacky closed-shoe technology work for me. I figured that they’d get used to it.

Even if it took a few blisters to get there.

Right?

Well, this was before I remembered that blisters are #$%&@ OUCHY.

And that my one knee? The trick knee? The ancient track knee? Yeah. Not a huge fan of heels.

So it’s been a little more rough than I thought. And Vancouver’s been forcing my hand with a bit of torrential rain. And my body’s been forcing my hand with a wicked ongoing cold.

I have to wear shoes.

Clearly, push has come to shove.

But today, I shoved back. I’m wearing flip flops. The blisters from shoe pair #3 actually began to scream audibly at me on my way home yesterday and I decided that I would yield. For a day.

A day when Vancouver seemed to both drop in temperature and explode with bone-chilling mist.

Frick.

I don’t remember the last time I had cold feet — actual cold feet that is, the other kind plague me all the time — and OF COURSE IT WOULD BE LIKE THIS ON A DAY WHEN I COULD NOT, WOULD NOT, CANNOT WEAR SHOES.

Seriously! My entire pinky toe is a BLISTER. THAT’S ALL IT IS.

Damn you, Vancouver.

I’d tell you to chill out but I COULDN’T TAKE IT.

I’m going to try putting the shoes back on tomorrow, but I think I’m going to have to invest in Pair #4, which will HAVE TO be soft and comforting like a blanket for my feet instead of rockin’ and sexy and hard-core.

But I refuse to have grandma feet or nurse feet or mom feet or wear the damnable UGGS, so I’m not sure what to do.

Trendy sneakers? I’m not that hip.

Meh.

If you have any suggestions, let me know.

For now, though, my blistered, shivery feet will just have to survive.

DON’T THINK YOU’VE BEATEN ME, VANCOUVER.

When it’s rainy and painy, it’s just good to remember California.

I used to be different. It’s true. I don’t quite remember myself and how I did it, but I was different.

I used to be one of those people who didn’t talk much about themselves on a personal level, who never really complained, who relied on a big laugh and a positive attitude and a stable of one-liners and a kooky personality to engage the people around her.

Okay, I complained some. But usually only in joke form. Unless I was talking to my mom, of course.

I subscribed to the notion that the less people knew about anything negative in your life, the more inclined they’d be to stick around. And I have to admit, I made a lot of friends this way. By being a better listener than a talker, by making people feel like life was a constant party, and by always being “fine.” No matter what.

This made me really good at working with kids, because I was stable and steady and entertaining and solid.

This made me really good at customer service, because I was stable and steady and entertaining and solid.

This made me really good at managing people, because I was stable and steady and entertaining and solid.

Catching the theme here?

Basically, this made me really good at dealing with unstable, unsteady, unentertaining, and unsolid people, because, well…. yeah.

At this point in my life, there were three things people told me I should be:

• A kindergarten teacher
• An actress
• A human resources director

Erm.

So… someone fiercely cheerful, someone who pretended to be other people, or someone who made sure that everyone was doing fine all the damn time?

Yeah.

Sounds about right.

Then my family went through some horrible things, and they weren’t fine anymore.

Then I got my heart seriously and solidly broken by someone who I’d invested every positive thing I had in.

Then I lost some friendships because I stopped being willing to take certain things from certain people.

Then I had to give up a 70 hour a week job (almost 18 hours a day in the summers) that had essentially defined me for almost a decade because it had eaten up every aspect of my life and was leaving me chronically worried and exhausted.

Then I was broke and hit my financial bottom.

Then I was a really crappy freelancer.

Then I got sick. Or finally admitted I was sick, and went to the doctor and found out how bad it really was.

Then I started questioning the things I believed and who I was and everything that I’d held as a priority before.

It’s been a hell of a few years.

It’s taken a toll on many of my relationships, on my involvement in my faith, on my body, on my mind, and on my spirit.

In there, lots of good things happened, too. Blessings. Huge ones. And I am more than aware of how lucky I am.

But somewhere in the midst of that run, I lost the ability to edit like I’d edited before. To hide what I struggled with. To shove things aside and crack a joke instead.

And that felt really good for a while, actually.

Just to be. And not make excuses.

Now I’m just wondering if I can ever get the Girl of Mystery ™ back again. The girl who sparkled more than she dribbled.

The girl who was fun.

The girl who knew when to shut up.

The girl who always seemed fine.

The girl who didn’t use the word “real” so damn often.

Because she was so much easier to deal with. With that girl, I didn’t have to lie in bed at night and wonder if I was testing the boundaries of unconditionality with the people I love. With that girl, I didn’t regret things I said. With that girl, I made people want to be around me. With that girl, I didn’t compare myself to the fun people in my life. I WAS the fun people in my life. With that girl, I didn’t have to go, “I’m fine, I promise! I really am! I will be!” because no one knew I was anything else.

It sounds like I’m idealizing, but I know how much effort I put into it. I worked hard at it. That’s the only reason it worked.

But I can’t do it anymore, not 100%.

And I wonder if this means that I’m going to end up doing it alone.