Blue Velvet Sectional

"Hi, my name is Lori, and I am a stomach sleeper. " The first step is admitting I have a problem. When I was 10, my friend Debbie told me at a sleep-over that if I slept on my stomach, I would never grow boobs.  This upset me greatly, but I couldn't fall asleep any other way.  Well, Debbie, I don't know where you are today, but you could not have been more wrong. Stomach sleeping makes finding the right pillow a nightmare. After a lengthy search,  and a lot of misfires, I ended up buying  this  one, the Dr. Maas Sleep for Success pillow for stomach and back sleepers from Bed Bath and Beyond, and it's the best $50 I've spent in ages.  It's just thin enough, and just sturdy enough, that my neck is getting the support it needs, at last.  Now, on to the other reasons I rarely get a good night's sleep. I try to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but it hardly ever works out. Last Thursday, I tried to get to sleep by 10PM.  On my way to the bedroo...

I used to have a blog called called Spends2Much.  That's actually still my username in some parts of the Interweb.  I liked shopping, though I wasn't all that proud of it, and I was genuinely spending far too much.  I intended to track what I spent in a public forum, but ultimately, I gave up before I learned anything about my shopping habits. Not fast fashion, but real fashion. Part of the reason I abandoned that blog was that I no longer identified with the name, or at least I was no longer comfortable being identified with it.  Yes, I still spend too much, but lately I've been thinking a lot about where I spend, and who ends up with my money. Last weekend, I finally saw the  documentary  The True Cost, which is about the pitiable existences of the people who make our clothes.  It tells a story I guess I already knew, but it hits harder when you actually see the workers, and they're no longer some abstraction represented by the "Made in Bangl...

Life in a downtown condo poses some challenges.  Listening to your neighbour's thudding disco at 2 in the morning, and picking other people's discarded cigarette butts out of your balcony plants, to name a few. Then, of course, there's size.  This condo is tiny.   Not crazy  Tiny House small, but I Grew Up In a Leafy Canadian Suburb and This Place Would Fit In the Kitchen small. My sofa, from Elte , is "condo size", but I recently decided that I needed a new living room chair. As I am accident prone, I need something to sit on that isn't white, or I'll spend all my free time trying to get Bordeaux out of the upholstery.  For years, I had a club chair with a multicoloured leafy print on it, but the fabric started to fray, so I decided to try a new look.  That chair, which fit perfectly, was from an unlikely source- I ordered it from Sears.  I don't remember fretting about the size before I ordered it, and it fit the room really well.  So, I went...

I've complained before about the small, boring bathroom that I am saddled with in this condo.  Honestly, I hated it so much I feel like I was actually bathing less.  For the sake of my loved ones and coworkers, something had to change. The whole thing was starting to make me homicidal, too... Psycho shower curtain.  Draw your own conclusions about me... Clearly, I was directing some unresolved rage at my bathroom.  I'm kidding, I just thought this shower curtain was hilarious.  I guess it's twisted (my mother was not impressed when she came to visit), but I got it somewhere classy- the TIFF Shop , when I saw Dial M for Murder in 3D . Back to fixing up the loo.  I added this dispenser , which has been great for decluttering the tub ledge, which then keeps me from dropping and tripping over plastic bottles when I have my barely-awake morning shower.  In that sense, it may actually be a life-saver.  It was a great purchase, and I am really h...

Well, I pulled my bags out of the various closets they were stashed in. All together, I have 24. This doesn't include a few small clutches, laptop bags, and an insane collection of canvas bags, the most precious of which are obviously from the Pigly Wigly in Harbour Island (pic below), and my Vandelay Industries tote.  Honestly, with those in my arsenal, why do I even have all these other bags? I imagine this number repulses some people, yet it's a drop in the bucket for others. For me, it feels like too much, but is there anything I can do about it?

Purses are like orgasms: a good one can knock your socks off, but when you fake it, trust me, you’re not fooling anyone. I don’t get the appeal of fakes. Are you trying to convince people you’re rich? Because when I see you sitting on the subway wearing an Old Navy hoodie and running shoes, I really don’t think you spent $3500 on that “Vuitton” bag you’re carrying. Still,  you know what’s even sadder? When the person I’ve just described actually does have a real bag! Seriously, if you got rich selling credit default swaps to suckers, or your dignity to reality TV, go to town, and spend all you want on your accessories. Get all the Speedys and Birkins and whatever else you need to advertise your money and justify your facelift.  Whatever. But if you’re middle class (or lower), and you scrimp and save, maybe blow that hard-earned money on some savings bonds or something. Don’t hand it over to a super rich designer to try to convince everyone else on the bus that you’re actual...

I have a lot of purses, in a lot of different sizes.  I keep clinging to the idea that I can still make do with a small bag, like I did until I was about 30.  In university, I used an amazing French leather book bag, but most of the time, all I needed was a tiny cross body no bigger than a DVD case. Just a selection. In my high school in the 80s, a big purse was the hallmark of the fast girl.  The kind who carried around ( and wore! ) makeup.  We fresh-faced preppy girls needed nothing beyond a Chapstick.  My little bag would have contained folded up bills and a coin purse, a debit card, ID, the aforementioned Chapstick, and my keys.  Seems like all you'd need, right?  So why have my bags gotten so damned big?  And it's not just me, it seems to be all of us. When I walk to work, I pass an astonishing number of women in the downtown core who are packed up like mountain climbers heading for the Himalayas, except with big purses, giant tote b...

Well, I haven't made much progress with the KonMari method and my  books , so I decided to give it a shot in the kitchen.  Although I live in a small space, my kitchen is, or rather was, bursting at the seams. I assume that most people in this condo cook only occasionally.  The stereotype of the downtown girl who keeps shoes in the oven and only eats salads and take-out is probably alive and well around here.  I, on the other hand, have the kitchen of a country grandma/Parisienne boulanger.  I'm overflowing with both food and appliances.  The fact that I worked for years at Williams-Sonoma  surely hasn't helped.  That's why I have French brioche tins, madeleine pans, and cake tins of every conceivable shape and size, including  Giant Cupcake .  I have more pots and pans than burners on my stove, in cast iron, enameled cast iron, stainless steel, and non-stick.  Muffin tins, loaf pans, roasters, casseroles... you get the idea. A...

I am great at spending money.   If I know I'll wear it and feel pretty in it, I can justify a $40 lipstick.  It's all about perceived value.  $400 for gorgeous boots that I'll wear and be comfortable in?  Absolutely.  More than that for something that I'll put drinks and magazines (and my feet, when no one's around) on?  No, sorry, can't do it.  It's the law of diminishing returns.  Sure, a $500 coffee table is probably nicer than a $50 one, but it's not ten times nicer.  A coffee table can only be so interesting, to me, anyway.  I understand that this is the minority opinion, however. Hence, Ikea.

As I mentioned in a previous post , and as it's the season, I am in a purging and organizing mood.  No, I'm not following Marie Kondo's advice as closely as I should be, mostly because it's SO HARD with books, and I have more books than anything else.  I've gone over and over my bookshelves, but I just can't seem to part with any more titles.  The vast majority of my books do spark joy, even if it's just the memory of having read it; I know I'm supposed to get rid of them anyway.  Not sure I can. I have started making piles that I am calling "now or never" books.  One of the bits of advice in The  Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up  is essentially: if you haven't read it yet, you're never going to.  I just can't face that.  In the pile pictured above are some books that I know will be amazing, but for some reason I haven't found the time. I have to read these in the next, let's say, 2 months, or they get donated.  It...

I live in a tiny condo, and I can't stand clutter.  The problem is,  I can also be a bit, well, let's say sloppy.  If I'm being honest, there are times where I've let the mess pile up until it's so embarrassingly bad that I wouldn't let the fire department in here if the building were burning down.  Generally, though, when it gets to the point where I can't find the TV remote,  I take action. Well, sort of.  I thought I was paring down my possessions, until it occurred to me that shoving unused stuff into my storage locker until it's so full the door barely shuts really doesn't count. I may actually need some guidance. A new approach to junk. But before committing to the idea of purging, I did some counting- do I really have too much stuff, or does it just feel that way because this place is so small?  Turns out, I have quite a few wine glasses.  That'd be ok, but I also have quite a few Champagne glasses (flutes and coupes), margarita glas...