Sexxxual Confessions Featuring Denim on Denim

And from then on their TREND-scending love was proclaimed. Show your support this fall for free love in fashion and get your denim on denim...on. Don't hate, copulate.

Who knew that sexual metaphors could be so wearable?

Jean Jacket - Vintage | Mesh Sweat Shirt - Vintage | White Top - Complex Geometries | Jeans - Guess? | Boots - Topshop

And in the spirit of taking risks in the closet,  I wouldn't be surprised if this were the beginning of a regular feature. Look forward to such conversation anecdotes as: "I want you in my pants," said my loins to the cotton/bamboo thermal underwear.

And in vaguely relevant updates, I give you "Platonic Love" c/o my mom and I.

Happy Weekend. And for more time-wasters, click it.

HYPE em' up style

I grant you permission.

Negotiating Neon

Excuse me while I stand on my imaginary pedestal of L.E.D. lit self-righteousness, but I hated each and every one of you who wore neon anything this past summer, you obnoxious attention-seekers, you. 

The bright orange nails, those goddamn trendy satchel bags available in any visually offending fluorescent hue available to Pantone-kind, and every blonde who dyed her hair pink because apparently, your genetically-predisposed VIP pass for fun just isn't enough and you had to go rub it in every wanting brunette's face by making your head look like the aftermath of a Hello Kitty-themed Sweet-Sixteen slumber party.

Anyways, my metaphorical period ended, I stopped taking extra-strength Advil (one is NEVER enough) and as the weather starts sucking on a continuous basis, I have rectified my aforementioned hostility with the neon colour palette and welcomed it into my wardrobe to counteract the death-sentence that is a looming Montreal winter.

Black Top: Vintage | White Mesh Pullover: Vintage | Lime Mesh Sweater: Genevieve Savard | Leather Jacket: Only NYC | Blue Shorts: New Balance | Bag: Topshop Vintage | Creeper Boots: Alexander Wang

And now I am content in the self-proclaimed irony of my electric blue hot pants. This winter, your retinas are in for it. Just. You. Wait.

Photo Diary: A Facial Repertoire

Top: Zara / Hat: American Apparel DIYed / Jewellery: Miss Cocotte

You may or not care (For your sake I hope that you tend towards the latter, because there are, at this very moment, intrinsically thoughtful questions like this being asked which NEED answers), BUT, these are some of the happenings that have been, in fact, happening in my life as of late, in professional and novice photo-graphical form and curated through a storyline of facial expressions.

Happening #1: (See above) Introducing: The Toothy Face. In all of its bicuspid and incisor glory, making its appearance for the upcoming jewellery collection campaign for Montreal jewellery designer, Miss Cocotte. More profesh photos to come styled by me and Josée Gagnon, make-upped by Joanie Lapointe, and shot by Michel-Éric Gauthier.

Jacket: Travis Taddeo / Top: Complex Geomoetries / Jewellery: Miss Cocotte / Shoes: Alexander Wang

Happening #2: I made a lot of serious faces in Old Montreal. A class-mate asked me why I always look so mad once. Clearly, I was just channelling my inner austerity and inherent bitch-face capabilities for this shoot by Paul Steward Photography. For more information, and a step-by-step tutorial on bitch-facing, click here.

 Happening #3: Marie and I stood on my roof and made a virtual spectrum of varied facial expressions, starting with what could be most accurately described as the despondent puppy dog face...

 Followed by the "I ain't got no face."

Narratively-peaking with that stupid face where the camera catches you mid-blink a.k.a. mentally-impaired.

 Then came the denouement or the one "where I understand if you just want to punch me in the face" face.

 Rounded up with the conclusively-appropriate and sickeningly irritating Happy Face. 

Mesh Top: Vintage / Shoes: Ash / Hand-Held Dead Animal: Vintage

So in conclusion - well, there is no conclusion. This whole thing was a total waste of your time. 
Reporting live, I'm Lisa of Food Water Fashion, bringing you up to the minute stupidity and ongoing narcissistic materialism. You are very, very welcome.

Blogging from The Backroom

Today I snuck into a backroom and, like I regretfully confessed earlier, no scandalous sexual encounters were had there (I blame this on laundry day being synonymous with ugly underwear day). But, although I didn't find any racy/lacy number to replace the aforementioned granny panties, I did find what is the beginning of a very solid collection of unique vintage, re-worked and student designer fashion finds which will be available to the fashion-hungry style setters of Montreal when The Backroom, our city's newest fashion retail destination for both ladies and gents, opens next Friday May 4th at 1445 Rue Lambert-Closse following an exclusive launch party where the beats will be poppin', the booze will be guzzlin', and I, in my bubbly-buzzed stupor may make uninformed purchasing decisions. (I already have my eye on a grey mesh racer-back tank top and if anyone swipes it off of me, I cannot promise non-violent repercussions and/or concussions. (Think Monica in Friend's wedding dress episode circa season 7)).

Run by three College Lasalle students, Marie, Rachel and Karen, who chose not to wait until the typical after graduation "now I better get my shit together" career-launching point to open up their first retail store, The Backroom is retail done refreshingly: locally-owned, locally-shopped, and locally-designed or sourced. And in a lapse of good judgement on their part, The Backroom's owners have nominated me as their official blogger in covering the store's launch party and grand opening. 

 Follow me here, here and here for more sneak-peak posts from The Backroom next week and for a visual collage of who wore what at the launch party. And I promise to wear nicer knickers this time. And I promise never to say "knickers" again. Promise.

Country Mouse: A Photo Shoot

If like me, you have a penchant for drop-crotch jeans and ethnically-inspired bath robes cloaks and (in a funny sort of circumstance that Alanis Morissette might categorize as "ironic") you grew up in the country, you were either a) shot, b) the victim of an "accidental" tractor hit-and-run, or c) married off to one of your numerous third cousins with the intention of locking down your "charming eccentricities" until complete eradication was achieved. 

Luckily I got out before experiencing any of the above. And upon my recent visit to the country from Montreal, I was surprisingly not shot by one of my John-Deere driving, long-barrelled-gun toting neighbours, but rather, was shot through the lens of my brother's camera, being all freaky deaky fashion-y on the dock. Neighbours stared. It's okay. I am a bona fide rural reject.

Cloak - Vintage 

                   

Dressing Like Holiday Mascots: Easter Edition

 It seems I have been doing several editions as of late. Pardon this pattern, but it has only manifested itself due to the sequence of special occasions in recent days. Easter and all of its small rodent iconography, specifically rabbit associations, has inspired my sartorial tendencies this weekend in the most blatantly representational form. In other words, I have been dressing like a rabbit.

Observe:

A silly hat reminiscent of a lumberjack/Russian traditional head attire doubles as a rabbit-ear imitator. Especially with the facilitation of my hands which render these would-be ears into a floppy state. Much like our fuzzy friend above.

And although pseudo rabbit ears are all well and good, I prefer full-on commitment to holiday-specific dressing. 

Total BOSS

So whether you favour half-assed or hard-core, you too can spread the holiday cheer either discreetly or obnoxiously simply by clothing yourself. Waist-expansion, binge-eating-facilitating sweat pants do not apply.

Hat & Plaid Shirt - Vintage
Tunic Top - Zara
Rabbit Costume - Momma Power