HOLIDAZE

Happy New Year. The holidays are finito. It’s all over but the caloric aftershock. I am still suffering from fromage overdose. I consumed so much cheese I swear I have become lactose intolerant.

The upside is there are heavy-duty sales going on. On New Year’s Eve, I dropped by the Kind Exchange location in The Beach just for the exercise, lured inside by the 50 per cent off signage in the window. They were doing brisk business, primarily women seeking the perfect LBD for that night. They'd left it dangerously late, but everyone seemed to find something, thereby alleviating the eventuality of showing up at the party in underwear. 

I scored a Mickey Mouse tank for $3 (because a girl can’t have too much Disney product on her body), a Calvin Klein moto jacket for $17 and a Stella McCartney dress for $30, which I had interviewed at Winners for 10 times the price. I had a brief flirtation with a Danier black leather blazer but was discouraged from purchasing it by fellow shoppers who pronounced it too big and boring.  Such is the camaraderie among thrifters. 

Big bargoons are to be had at Anthropologie, my go-to for yummy dinnerware, specifically the hand-painted plates from Paris when they are on sale. I glommed onto an impossibly cute bunny bread-and- butter plate that was originally $14, marked down to $6.99 and reduced another 40 per cent. It was a no-brainer:  my Starbucks green tea latte costs more than that. 

But the granddaddy of savings is the $1.98 floor at Ends in The Beach. Everything is new and everything is $1.98 -- including trousers and jackets. Lots of samples but you have to be prepared to hunt. I cashed out with a bag of goodies totaling $18 and including a fake fur collar, three tank tops for Rob originally marked at $45 each, a wool beret with cool grommets and an army jacket. 

Merry markdowns everyone.

Our version of a Christmas tree this year -- because our kitten Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. is a one-cat wrecking crew. This arrangement somehow remained unscathed for a remarkable two weeks.

Me and Christine Henry, my bestie from grade 10, doing a selfie at the subway after our traditional holiday dinner in Greektown. The venues vary but the wine count is inevitably in the two-bottle range.

We had a minor holi-blaze this year involving the old-crow-regarding-skull installation on the kitchen window. The skull is a candle which I left unattended. No casualties, except the old crow got a hot foot.

I encountered this foxy TTC fare inspector at my local Starbucks. She manages to look like Pam Grier à la Foxy Brown even decked out in bulky Kevlar vest. But not all fare inspectors are so affable. I got yelled at by one for taking a photo of an ad in the subway. Apparently photography is forbidden on TTC property. Seriously?

Cute couple alert at our fave local eatery, Xola. They are fashionistas with complimentary head wear and are both texting after dinner, for which she picked up the tab.