Travel Make up Bag?


I don’t usually share much about my makeup collection because I don’t exactly have a great taste for makeup, but after making tons of weekend trips and party trips lately I thought I’d share what makeup I would bring while travelling for a casual weekend away to the big city or out with some girlfriends. Here’s what I’d take with me…


NAKED by Urban Decay Palette
Eyelash Curlers
Better Than Sex Mascara
Small Hand Cream (vintage, from @ASOS)
Bourjois Paris Blush in Pink
Maybeline Dream Matte Mousse Concealler (in desperate need of new one)
Benefit Gel Eyeliner
Mayeblline Eyeliner in White
MAC lipstick in DIVA
Wide, blush/blending Brush
L’Oreal Under Eye Concealler/Highlighter


There is a 99% chance I use most of these products wrong, and I don’t care. I do my makeup the way I like to do it, and if thats the way everyone else does it then that’s wonderful, and if its just the way I like it then better! Makeup is there to make YOU feel confident, so do what YOU want with it!

xx Jess


Champagne Craving

Maybe I’m crazy, but I really do enjoy champagne. I know a lot of my friends only stand it one day a year, on New year’s Day, from 12:01-12:05, and then sit down their glasses for the entire year and don’t think anything of it. But I really do just enjoy drinking the bubbly, light, golden drink. I find it makes me feel fancier, and stronger somehow, and if I’m honest its better than drinking liquor.

In moderation, obviously.

I feel like 2015 is going to be the year of the Mimosa for me. I never drink juice unless alcohol is involved anymore, so I do not have juice very often at all, but mimosa’s….they are the pinnacle of beauty. Maybe beauty isn’t the right word…glamour. I feel like the real Breakfst At Tiffany’s, like the actual act of eating breakfast in a Tiffany’s, would include pans au chocolat, a cigarette and a mimosa. Fabulous, the absolute picture of fabulousness.

With Raybanz, of course.

Luckilly for me, champagne is not extremely expensive and adding it to orange juice is even cheaper at home, and then I do not feel pressured to buy too many drinks while I’m out. “Oh, I’ve already had a mimosa at home.” I feel like I’m just describing some pretentious a-hole, but let’s be honest, I can’t just go drinking champagne and not feel…if not lslightly…a little bit pretentious.

I love champagne and I am not going to just sit back with that information, I will scream it from the rooftops!


xx Jess

Compartmentalization and the Inability to “Go With the Flow”

I do yoga upwards of three times every week and more meditation than that. I spend hours working through journalling about my mental state, the balance of my emotions, working through mindfulness and being a stable human being without thoughtfully bursting into tears when anyone spoke. It is a wonderful, fufilling practice that makes me feel whole, and strong and confient in a way that nothing else has ever offered me. My yoga experience is a ourney so personal that I find it hard to talk about openly, but it is so beautiful and I am at peace, despite never being able to deal with spontaneity. I confess it, I cannot go with the flow.

My whole life is compartmentalized into moments throughout the day from when I wake up until I go to sleep. On the weekends I have been TRYING to let this practice go, as it makes me feel comfortable and strong, but it leaves me extremely disappointed when things do not go as planned. I am a planner, I am not a surfer, and that may seem weird coming from a self-proclaimed practicing yogi who is, again, self-proclaimed, “at peace.”

I’ve learned through my practice that being a balanced, strong human being means that you acknowledge your flaws (if they are truly flaws) and you move forward with them, clinging to your belt, always there, and managed by combatting them with kindness that you deserve. I think the first step in accepting your flaws is respecting yourself enough to see them as something that is a part of you, and I don’t really see compartmentalization of my week necessarily a flaw, but an obstacle, something to work through, or at the very least, to keep in moderation in my life, but not forcin myself to work through it in one day, but taking a gradual, peaceful approach to it.

Compartmentalizing my time got me through university, through two degrees, through travelling, through mental illnesses and working, through loss and happiness, but it also causes as much pain. Like anything, it is all about the balance.

I like consistency, and I like trusting that things will change when they need to, that things will fall into place, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about them. I have vowed to be patient and worry less in 2015, so to make this happen I have to hold my curser over the “Planning” tab of my life and wait for the balance to come through.

I’m always interested in hearing how other people get their work done, you know, to get ideas! So let me know if you know a secret to peace of mind in spontaneity and I will be grateful forever.

xx Jess

Dried Flowers

I’ve always found the idea of opening up a book I borrowed from a friend or a grandmother and finding beautiful daisies dried and folded neatly between the pages so romantic. Is there something ideological about flowers that is intrinzically so romantic? When my boyfriend brings me flowers to put on my desk I am more inclined to be up for sitting through a long, action-filled or bro-joke film than beforehand (hint?). My experience with flowers extends to my acting days and exiting the stage to find my parents holding a bouqet of flowers and praise. Ah, so romantic, romantic in the way of the ease of expressing emotion through nature.

And the English major enters.

Here’s a flower I’ve been drying from my last bouqet from my boyfriend Martin who keeps wanting to be mentioned. MARTIN FLOWERS YAY THANKS. Okay, here it is:


And it’s been there for a few weeks now, waiting to be placed, but I’m having a hard time figuring where to put it. It is a huge head of a flower and too big to place in a novel to give to someone (although, if you are low on cash and a hoarder of books, this would be a sweet christmas gift idea, buying books and places flower petals in there, this is a wee late for christmas now but valentines day, eh? Topical. Alright.) but what do I do with these?

Here’s a box with Christmas colours and a stocking:


It is full of dried flowers from probably the last eight years, everything from semi-formals, post-theatre shows, prom, graduations, boyfriends, and the like.


What can I say? I love beautiful flowers. What can I say about the cliche of giving someone flowers? That it is romance, it is a natural progression of human nature to express ourselves by manipulating the world around us. It is almost valentines day (kind of) or at least it is coming up, so I will be writing out a few topical tidbits in the next few weeks.

I’ve got a DIY Valentine’s gifty appropriate for everyone from your lova to your grandma, as well as maaaaybe some makeup (the theme is red and pink after all, and I am the Queen of bold lipstick) and maybe some date ideas that are affordable, adorable, and awesome!


And to all you romantics who dry and press your flowers (sort of) like me, then I hope that this Valentines day brings you new flowers to fold, hang upside down, cut, admire and indulge in. And that everyone has a lovely evening.

I’m off to watch Friends with my brother (we’ve already watched them all on DVD but since Netflix got it its revolutionised binging) and then cuddle up with a book.

xx Jess


Does anyone else find celebrating your own birthday a bit…intimidating? I feel like there should be a guidebook written somewhere about how to be gracious and grateful for the celebrating that goes on during your birthday. Our family has a whirlwind month of Christmas and Birthdays starting December 21 and ends tomorrow, with good old me. Toda is my brother’s birthday, he won’t read this but Happy Birthday Kyle can’t believe you’re fourteen. He’s not allowed to get any older now.

So tomorrow I wake up…different? I don’t think I will feel it much, if anything I am going to just do the same thing I do most saturdays. Drink coffee and watch football with my dad, drink coffee elsewhere, eat food on a binge, with the addition of cake. I love cake, I couldn’t eat it all of the time but when the opportunity presents itself I do delve into some cake.

But how do I really feel about growing a year older tomorrow? Obviously I’m not waking up tomorrow and the entire year of aging/growing wiser happens overnight or anything there won’t be much of a change, but if anything I am just going to be quite introverted and sheepish all day.


The last bit will be celebrated: I am alive. How friggen amazing life is, and that’s what I think I’m going to celebrate tomorrow.

January is such a stupid month to be born in too because dressing cosy and cute and fun is so lame because I can’t wear any of the dresses that I want and always have to wear a coat and boots. Ugh, winter ruins a lot of things.

It isn’t a felony to enjoy being alive, it isn’t a bad thing, and so that’s what I’ll be cheersing to for the weekend. Cheers to you, for living your life, for reading, for smiling, for branching out, for taking a deep breath instead of a shallow one.

And cheers to me, for making it to 23, and for the first year in a lot of years not worrying about getting older but loving what life has in store for me. I trust life, it knows what I need.

xx Jess

The Beach

Hi friends! I was really wanting to post a fashion post today about going to the beach style…but…it’s January…and no one is going to the beach anywhere near me, unless they are leaving on holiday in whcih case get off my blog and go be awesome somewhere else I am too jealous of that…So…I’ll keep that post for a while and just post a nice, beautiful picture from when I was on a beach in Dover, England, and wish that I was there.


When I was younger we went to the beach for weeks on end in the summer, ever since my brother was born (fourteen years ago TOMORROW!) we have been to Sauble beach each summer, and spending the time there was amazing. I learned to ride amazing bikes fast, had my first real job other than babysitting, wrote, spent summers in cars with boys, but eventually the luster wore off. After starting university it got harder to justify going to the beach for weeks or even weekends, and when I did go it was with my family and we didn’t have internet, so it just seemed a bit strained. Then I started having full time jobs in the summer, and the weekends became sparse and if I’m honest the beach was a hassle.

Last summer I longed for the beach. I longed for the sun and the little town. I think longing for it made it easier and more enjoyable to return to. Now, after realising that the internet is not everything and loving to spend time with my family and liking to go mini golfing and sitting on patios for alcoholic beverages in the afternoon, the beach has become a luxury and one of the best things to do.

Don’t get me wrong, the love has always been there, just now I love it more intensly because I know it won’t always be there.

I’ve always been drawn to large amounts of water. When I first swam in the ocean in Costa Rica the sand was so hot but the water was…amazing. My first real swim was snorkelling and cutting my knees and seeing fish and ACTUALLY SEEING them, and laughing so hard and being stung by small jellyfish and crying from exhaustion and then zooming off afterwards into the sunset on a catamaran watching dolpihins beside us jump after the sun. My first ocean experience was a luxury, but salt water swimming isn’t for me. The fresh water great lakes are where it is at.

But being near the water? That’s another story.

Dover, Brighton, Scotland, all of the places in Europe that we went to that had the ocean nearby were intoxicating. Sitting beside the water with a pint after a long day on the pier in Brighton, resting after walking up and down a large hill to the oldest castle in England in Dover, and freezing our asses off beside the ocean in Scotland late at night were just irreplaceable experiences. I love the water, I am a water baby…and it is amazing.

My favourite days at the beach are when there is nothing else to be done. No dinner to go home to, and you can lounge around down to the water late morning, eat french fries, sit in a big sun hat, get ice cream, swim in large waves and dry off in the warm sun. Walk down with your shoes in one hand and your friend’s hand in the other to the main strip to get beers and pizza, walking home with milkshakes (nothing about the beach is healthy when I go) and sleeping late into the next morning to do it again. The lifestyle of the beach is in itself intoxicating in a different way than the times in Europe.

But being near the water is such a neat experience it is so hard to not want to go. If I have the opportunity this summer I will be there in a flash.

xx Jess

Where I Post on Wednesdays

Hi friends! I am writing to you this Wednesday to say that I write on another blog on Wednesdays, it is called “Yoga With Donuts,” and it is a project to work towards inspiration in new and exciting ways! It al started with a yoga practice that was preluded by a delicious donut and thus this was born!

My first post is here:

I wrote about bread, yep, what were you expecting?

Go check it out, my great friend Nicole writes on Sundays. Are you interested in writing on a day? Comment and see if its free!

xx Jess

French Fries

French Fries

If there is one thing about life that I could change, or if I had three wishes and could make one large, universal, every-person-affecting wish, I would wish for potatoes to be the healthiest food to eat. I wish that potatoes would help you LOSE weight, and that when they are deep fried and covered in cheese curds and gravy your skin, nails, hair, UTI or any other potentially hazardous thing on your body would improve nay excel above others’. I wish that I could eat French fries every day and delight in their beauty after a workout, because if I’m honest there’s nothing I want more after doing a thirty minute run and lifting for another half hour than sliced potatoes deep fries and serve with malt vinegar.

If you have been around me for longer than five minutes you may have picked up on the fact that I loved baked potatoes. I love jacket potatoes full of sour cream, chives and bacon. I love cheese on potatoes, or scalloped potatoes in mushroom soup and onions. I love potatoes that are roasted with rosemary and oil, and I love fried potatoes at breakfast. I think there is nothing more satisfying than a potato, and that is a problem in reality and it is awful to remember after a bite of delicious, warm, potato.

I try to give myself a break whenever I can make potatoes successfully, but still the fact remains: they are unhealthy and ultimately pack on the pounds. Why are they so good? Sure, sweet potatoes are kind of the same and they are better for you, but give me the startch. Why can I not be a part of an alien race that lives off of starch? THE POSSIBILITIES. Is this a comic book? (Side note: I am obsessed with creating comic books right now, is there an artist out there who wants to team up?? I really could use a partner in crime considering I have very little artistic abilities beyond drawing robots with peace signs).

This Saturday is my 23rd birthday and I have decided (among many other, healthier things) that I want to spend a good amount of time with my dad in a grocery store and then in my kitchen making the tastiest home-made jacked baked potato there is. Hey, its my birthday, you can’t gain weight on your birthday (this goes for all of you too, have a jacked baked potato on me, its my birthday, if you’re celebrating you can’t gain weight either, it’s the rules!).

Have a little starch today, just go for it, you’ll thank me later.

Xx Jess