"Fashion is so often presented in our culture as a thing of froth, which of course,
it partly is; but the bubbles are blown with such care and a sense of values."
- Anna Wintour


Friday, 30 May 2014

Une Bonne Idée

For all of you who don't know already, last year I went to Fashion Business School in Paris.
Yes, I went to Fashion School in Paris and it was the biggest joke God has ever played on me.
EVER.  I won't get into the deets now, (that's for another post), but I'll tell you one thing;

                                 For every bad idea spawns one good obsessive idea.

I learned every thing about the fashion industry, from creation to production to distribution and the more I learned the more I wanted ALMOST, nothing to do with luxury fashion. Nothing was pure, creativity was a myth and everything comes down to profit and vanity. Sorry kids! (At the expensive of underpaid, overworked interns and sweat shop labor of course )The kicker? We were told there is really nothing we could do about it, this is the direction of our luxury/fast fashion industry and you either get on board or jump off. I was screwed cause I couldn't swallow it.
 Can you guess my bad idea yet? 
I continually ignored the way I genuinely felt about everything, tried my best to pass and would usually escape in photography on weekends (and skipping class on week days). 
This is where I usually felt vindicated.
Yet, there is always a silver lining.

My one good idea came about in a fantastical way during Paris Fashion Week. 
(Yes, I stalked fashion shows and editors and it was fun), but the most spectacular thing happened when I encountered Garance Dore.  As I awkwardly asked her for a Photograph she happily obliged and then decided that I also wanted a picture with her friend. So she took my camera and took a photo of me with (???)
As I was on my way, dumb struck and in awe, she causally stated "cool camera strap!" and left.

That probably sealed my obsession. The strap I made was out of an old gold chain belt and black velvet, completely unsafe for a $600 device dangling from my neck, but hey!
When I looked around no one, not even the chicest of the chic, had a unique camera strap,
 maybe I was on to something.

  This obsession became my final Thesis project (which my teachers hated but people loved) and now, my own personal project. When one cannot find something they desire, why not create it? And I did.


Here are some of the latest samples with designs and template by moi
 and materials imported from  La Paz, Bolivia. All Fair Trade.

                                              Check out my Etsy for more designs coming soon!
                                                               Thanks friennddss xx Jacque

Friday, 23 May 2014

Thoughts from Freedom

It's been really long.
Like 6 months long. Toronto Winter Long.

 “It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.”
– Anaïs Nin

This post is dedicated to the time I thought I could adapt to the 40hr work week.
This is not a rant or a rebellion, just straight up honesty.
I couldn't do it and I'm not ashamed.

Some would blame the job, the company or the schedule. (Which were all horrible in themselves)
But it was more then that, it was the idea that I was wasting my time.

Everyday I said it would get better, that I should be grateful, that I was responsible and that this,
THIS, is what I wanted. We could lie to the world, but lying to yourself is a whole different ball game. One you lose at, constantly.
I wanted to die daily.

Over the course of three months I became a cynical, despondent, exhausted little troll.
My days off were devoted to recovery to a job that, not only destroyed my entire day,
but also loved destroying my days off. 

I needed to like my job, and besides the people I worked with, it felt like paid slavery.
Slavery with a smile. Possibly the worst.

So I quit, well 2-weeks notice quit. I gave it a solid 3 months.
It was actually the best feeling in the entire world. Actually
It had to be right if it felt that good, no?
It kind of felt like this...

 Or this..

Maybe this,



That fear and panic I hear in the people who I tell makes me want to scream. Real Loud.
(Do you have a backup plan? The job market is really rough! Have you been looking?etc.etc. )
Some, NOT ALL, love projecting there fear on to you, the fear you never feel but society kind of reminds you that you should feel.
You know that fear?

I understand, I get it, a girls gotta eat (and shop and drink) but it's obnoxious. Save it.

I'm a grown women. I've been here. Millions of times, but this time I'm prepared and
I don't feel like jumping to desperation but flowing with my intuition.
Fear nothing but fear itself.

So what's the plan you ask...
 Thanks for reading,
 Love you all!