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
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,
The point of this blog is to cajole me out of my 1,100-square-foot semi-detached oasis and into the cold, mean streets of the nation's capital. And so, with that in mind, I set out this past Sunday intent on exploring the city with the eye of a tourist. First stop? Parliament Hill and the ByWard Market. Mais oui. This past May marked five
If Ottawa Diva didn't have so many legs, she would aspire to be a Rideau Valley Roller Girl. (Uh, is that girl on the right holding a WHIP?) As it is, she's gotta blogroll this site to remember to go back and purchase some merchandise. Two-sizes-too-small tank top, here a super-sticky Ottawa Diva-in-August comes!
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
