Thursday, October 15, 2009

eat your feelings

Every news anchor, radio host and fat person has their XXL panties in a knot over Fillipa Hamilton getting canned. I haven’t been able to watch a stitch of my regular morning programming without seeing those eight paltry words flashing along the runner:

Ralph Lauren Model Fired For Being Too Big

Ahhh, the great weight debate. In light of recent concerns regarding feather-flimsy models, later aggravated by Lagerfeld's 'curvy woman' snafu, designers have tried putting chunky chicks on the runway. The reaction? Anything but favourable, or fashionable. An example: Mark Fast (the models, not the line itself). But still, does society put too much pressure on models' broad, boney shoulders to be skinny? How thin is too thin? Where should we draw the line? And, for Christ's sake, IS ANYONE THINKING OF THE CHILDREN!? So many (de)pressing questions.

So, here’s a new one. How about, who cares?

Big girls are beautiful too. I'm sure there's a bumper sticker for that. But modeling is a job reserved for people of specific qualifications, just like being a doctor, or a teacher, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, a sumo wrestler or Prima Donna. To be a model, you don't necessarily have to be smart, or politically minded, you don't need to blow your load on a four year degree, only to dig deeper into dept, just to grasp at a Masters before dropping out to deal with your QLC/AKA working on that non-existant "extended thesis". You don't even really need to know how to spell your own name. There is very little a model must do. Walk strait. Eat less. Be thin.

If being thin, and thin according to industry standards is anything between a 0-2, isn't exactly your forte – then why not train horses, build houses, open a bed and breakfast. The possibilities are endless! You don't see genuinely stupid people kicking and screaming because they didn't get into MENSA? Why not? Well, probably because they're off enjoying their job as a daycare attendant somewhere. But that's besides the point. It's really because there are things in life that shouldn’t be challenged, but rather accepted.

I'll never be Jourdan Dunn, and not just for the obvious reason that I'm 5'7, Jewish and white. I'm not a size 0. I never will be. And it's never bothered me. Instead of focusing on what I can't be, I focus on what I can be. And I would recommend that Ms. Hamilton do the same.

So, Fillipa, if you’re reading this, you're a beautiful, talented, skyscraper of a girl who simply outgrew the sample sizes. No need to fret, or cause a media geyser to erupt in your honour, and in the honour of other lowly size fours in the world. (P.S. cry me a freaking river). Don’t focus on what you can't do (anymore), and start thinking about what you can do!

And, what does an ex-model do when she's too cumbersome for the catwalk?

I've heard this works.

hi jeff

I am an American aquarium drinker,
I assassin down the avenue.
I'm hiding out in the big city blinking,
What was I thinking when I let go of you?

Let's forget bout the tongue-tied lightning,
Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers.
This is not a joke, so please stop smiling,
What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt?

I want to glide through those brown eyes dreaming
Take it from the inside, baby hold on tight
You were so right when you said that I've been drinking
What was I thinking when we said goodnight?

- Wilco, live at Massey Hall, Oct. 14th 2009

Jeff Tweedy broke my heart last night, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't easy.

Monday, October 5, 2009

expectations surpassed


I suppose if you were to ask me what a Fever Ray concert looks like, I'd probably tell you that it's mostly like church, if church were for devil worship, and violent light shows, and antique lamps, and veteran ravers, and guys in capes. (true story)

If I were to tell you that, I would probably sound like every other person who's chronicled their experience, and I'd also be 100% right.

Although it was advertised as an all-ages event, I doubt there was a pre-pube in the joint. Karen Andersson stole the show in an oscar-worthy performance playing dual roles, first Jesus Christ, then the Golem, while the rest of the gang suited up and waved tribal prayer paraphernalia around the stage to engage the audience in group chants and evangelical-like hand shaking.

No dancebreaks. No encore. (But there was a merch stand?) Just lights out, lasers on, sound up. Way up. It was one of the most severe 40 minutes of my life.

But then, I suppose if you like Fever Ray, you'd probably tell me I shouldn't have been surprised. And you'd be 100% right.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

vote or die

You may recognize Brian Coulton from such things as:

- all of my broadcast assignments
- arts and living from the Metro newspaper
- Jet Fuel
- the radio (specifically CBC and CFRB)
- GTA's registered sex offenders print-out
- "vinyl fan" fame

One of these factoids is false, but I won't tell you which one. And if you can't identify Brian by any of his real accomplishments, we're going to try and change that.

I want YOU (and the rest of the world world) to remember Brain Coulton. Let's make Brain Coulton a household name. Let's promise to love him, and honour him, and cherish him as long as we all shall live. (I do.)

Click here to make history. Thanks.