In a previous life, Diva's fashion taste was sometimes classified "grunge" when, really, she simply couldn't be bothered to spend any more on apparel than the cost of old man trousers at the local second-hand store raising money for charity. After all, there were more important benefactors of her hard-earned minimum wage. The two Johns Player
photo credit: some kid's myspace account Knock, knock. Who's there? Reader. Reader, get the *%#$ out of here. I'm busy with bleach in a not-so-well-ventilated room making my own acid wash. If I don't post by tomorrow, call the police. And then check out The Fashion Press.org - a fashion blog by a couple of Ottawa cool cats. They're who I'd
I’ve been known for doing things half-assed. Case in point? Ottawadiva.COM. I purchased it in haste, too impatient to wait until the next day (or even an hour later) for the .ca to be ready, since its unavailability that night was merely a technical issue. I wanted my own domain, dammit! No error message advising of temporary technological
For a so-(self)-called Ottawa Diva, what more devilish way to return to the Ottawa social scene than the opening of Michael Kors, of course? (Disclaimer: Ottawa Diva has never actually been part of the Ottawa social scene, so this tale is one less of a triumphant return than it is of a girl shamelessly being a hanger-on to one of her more hip,
Ottawa Diva is a spoiled bitch. The idea for this website came to her during a three-month stint in Paris in 2009. She put down her Grand Marnier and Nutella crêpe only long enough to ask, "Why don't I love Ottawa like I love Paris?" And then she kept eating. The answer, she thought, was all about attitude. Paris has it; Ottawa... well... not
