FASHION WEEK!!!!!

I have a friend named Christina. My friend Christina is lucky. Not the "hey I found a $10 bill on the ground" lucky. More like "I won a $1000 shopping spree at Gap" and "I won three tickets to Master Card World Fashion Week"
NO. KIDDING.
Fashion Week, in Toronto. With Girlfriends. It's like so very Sex and The City. Except I ain't Carrie, y'all!
As soon as I saw the tweet from Christina I called her. "Are you freaking kidding me?!?!?"
Apparently not, we were going to the first night of fashion week. Courtesy of Ceasarstone Canada! http://www.caesarstone.ca/en/Pages/default.aspx
Which, naturally is when the panic set in.
See, here's the thing Internet. Fashion does not come easily to me.
I can put an outfit together on a dummy in the store. No problem.
I can match accessories to outfits practically with my eyes closed.
But finding clothes to put on this body? Um.......yeah.
Here's the problem, Internet. I'm in between. I'm at the bottom end of plus sized and the top end of regular sized. Also, I lift people for a living and carry nephews whenever possible. So trying to find clothes to fit around my arms and shoulders is daunting. Now, I'm sure that there is a perfect website or store for these problems. So far I haven't found it.
So I get fashion anxiety. Just a little bit.
And apparently going to Fashion week makes this worse. I had no frame of reference. What does one wear?!?!
Panic.
I called my BFF for advice. She's been to fashion week, in Paris. She advised a simple black dress with some pop out colour and a great bag. Um...I don't have a GREAT bag for night. I have coach bags cause my sister loves me. But they're not night bags.
So my BFF lent me her Dior. SHUT UP!

So, I'm dressed, make up on, hair done, bag ready.
In the car with Christina and the always charming Kay.
On the 401, zooming to fashion week. Holt Renfrew! Pink Tartan! Pavoni!!!!!
Construction.
Late for Holt Renfrew.
 Don Valley Parking Lot.
Missing Holt Renfrew.
Skidding in to the Big Tent just as Holt Renfrew is about half way done.
Thankfully, John the rep for Caesarstone our sponsor is an amazing friendly man and was able to meet us and give us our passes. We were IN!

OMG!!!!!!
I was not the tallest woman in the room suddenly!!!
Booths by Mabelline, Essie, Caesarstone, the list goes on and and on!

Swag bags every time we turned around, filled with coupons and free samples and great magazines and catalogues.
The CaesarStone booth was particularly fantastic! Macaroons!!!!

On to the Pink Tartan Show! So exciting! Well dressed people milling about looking for their seats. I was struck by how friendly and polite they were. Not one rude glance in a crowded room full of people looking for their seats. Wow.

The Pink Tartan show was amazing. Lots of pale pink and pale mint green for Spring 2013. Pale mint is good. I'm not much of a pink girl. I couldn't get very many shots of the models, I was too busy gawking but here's one of the great looks!

http://pinktartan.com/

After Pink Tartan, a little break for frree wine samples, red or white and a free hot stone hand massage!!!! Wow! I could get used to this. Maybe I'll petition my boss for free hot stone hand massages at work!
On to the Pavoni Show.

I was totally amazed at how in just a 30 minute break the same runway could be transformed!
The show was everything it promised to be. Breathtaking dresses,

Crazy music, crowds of people

http://www.pavonicollection.com/home.html
Yards, and yards and yards of Tulle and I swear every bead in North America!
Too soon it was time to go home.
Totally tired.
Totally happy!
Thanks so much to Christina and Kay for inviting me and travelling with me! Thanks to Caesarstone for the tickets  and  thanks to MasterCard World Fashion week for the experience!

A Eulogy for Dorothy Jean

Not so long ago we had to have our family dog Dorothy Jean put down. It was a tough call, she was 13 years old but up until the evening before we put her down had been fairly healthy albeit fat.

I got a call from my sister to say Mom and Dad were taking her to the vet most likely to put her down. She had stopped drinking and eating two days before and the night before the call had cried all night.

She was in pain.

I rearranged my work schedule to go spend some time with her. She was on the floor in her spot between the couch and nanny's chair. Her nose was warm and dry and her eyes a little dull. But she wagged her spotty stubby tail when she saw me. I laid down on the floor and petted her face to face for a while.

It took three of us coaxing and finally Dad carrying to get her in the truck. She was in rough shape.

Dorothy was a fantastic dog. A good old girl.

She was born in my parent's house in the basement. My Dad and his Brother had decided to breed English Springer Spaniels. Naturally that meant the women in the house had a pile of work to do.

When Dorothy was born she was in the middle of the pack. Not too small, not too big. We called her number 5. There were 10 pups. She was hand raised with rest of them. Bottle fed and snuggled.

Eventually all the pups got old enough to sell. So naturally there was an interview process. You couldn't just walk into our yard and give us $500 for a dog. You had to pass a personality test, show us an income statement and convince us you had the right cut of jib for our dogs.

They all went. Fully papered CKC registered English Springer Spaniels.

We chose  a lady for  #5. She had other dogs she claimed and said #5 would fit right in.

She was gone for about a month. Then the lady called. She said #5 was sick. Had been to her vet and deemed genetically unfit. She peed constantly and always would. She was not what the lady had paid for.

Thereafter there was a flurry of telephone calls between the lady and my mother that ended with my mother's declaration of "bring her home". She was gone about 9 weeks.

And home she came. I will probably never forget that day.

The car pulled up and they took a crate out of the back. Inside was a shivering shaking spotty dog. They opened the door and she began to limp out.

"why is she limping?" from my mother
"She caught her paw in the crate" was the reply

"why is she filthy?" I asked
"she's incontinent" was the answer.

The spotty dog saw me sitting in the entryway and began to scream. Have you ever heard a dog scream? I have and it broke my heart.
And infuriated my mother.
"Here's your money" she told the lady

And the lady made the mistake of making some kind of noise about keeping the dog. I don't know for sure cause I had a spotty shivering screaming filthy dog wrapped around my neck.

I do remember my mother saying "Lady, you better get out of my yard. The dog stays."

Thankfully I was wearing shorts that day. Cause filthy dog and I got in the tub. It took a long time to get her clean. She kissed me the whole time.

She never went anywhere again. My Uncle made a suggestion that she could be re-sold. I explained to him that since I had put the ad in the paper and helped screen the phone calls and the people I felt I had earned a dog. Really I just couldn't bear to put her in another car. I may have taken some tone with him. Maybe.

I saw the lady again a month or so later. She asked about the dog. I said the dog was fine. She asked if we were having another breeding litter. My response was "lady, it will be hockey night in Hades before you get another dog from us." Then I walked away. Cause really, smacking people is illegal.

We debated about what to call her. She had a spot on the top of her head and before she left my mom had been calling her "dotty". My sister flat out refused to call her that. "I'm not standing in the yard screaming Dotty. The neighbours will think I've lost my mind. It's stupid."

The debate carried on. "What's the long form of Dotty?" My sister asked "what's it a pet name for?"
Well, Dorothy.
My sister declared that a dog who crossed her paws when she laid down should have two names like a lady.  She chose Jean as the second name.
And so we registered her as Miss Dorothy Jean of Nunn

Dorothy had a damned good life. She had some ups and downs. An emergency puppy hysterectomy. Several UTI's. Cancer removed from her paw. Ear infections.

But she only ever peed in our house twice. Both times were people's faults. If we had listened to her she would have made it. Hell, she used to wake me up at 2 am crying by the bed asking out.

She became dad's girlfriend. She would wait for him to come home from work. Laying on the mat by the door. She became mom's gardening companion, she loved to eat beans. She became nanny's foot warmer. She would sit on nanny's feet and let herself be petted. Even when nanny put her fingers in Dorothy's eyes cause nanny  is blind Dorothy never curled a lip.

She never curled a lip when kids on the street threw sticks at her. I did though.

She only ever bit the neighbour kid. But in fairness he smacked my butt. She would get in between us if we were having an argument. Her poor little face would get so anxious that we had no choice but to stop.

She loved the sprinklers, was terrified of thunderstorms.

I was nervous when my brother and his wife brought their first baby to mom and dad's. Dorothy had never been around babies, would she be ok?

She basically ignored the small human. Till he cried. Then she licked him.

She mourned for a month when we had to put black dog down. Then again when I moved out.
 Is it stupid to be so sad for a dog?
Well, how about for a gentle happy soul?
I know the religious people say dogs don't have souls.

I have a different opinion about that. I'm pretty sure you can't get into heaven (or what ever the good place after this one is) unless animals vouch for you. I think they are the gate keepers.

Hold the door for us old girl, we'll see you in a while.