Skinny Black Jeans and Stampedes

I finally bought a pair of skinny black jeans. I’ve been holding out, perhaps because it’s the ultimate hipster classifier. If anyone called me a hipster I could say, “No, no- have you seen my jeans??” But now I can only throw out defensive statements like, “But I shop at the Gap!” and “I still like Death Cab!”

I found the trendy jeans during a day of shopping in Vancouver, just after half-way trying on a pair of maternity pants. I had them pulled up to my knees before I realized the meaning behind the faux fly and extra-wide elastic waist band. Oops. As a self-esteem booster I was prepared to hand them back to the fitting room attendant with an apologetic shrug that said, “These funky pants were waaaay too big,” but alas, the post was unmanned.

Later, in a small vintage boutique in Chinatown I had another shopping mix up. I was looking through the Western/cowboy shirt selection and the cashier perked up. “You’re looking for Western shirts?” she asked, “Because the stampede here is over.” I assumed by “stampede” she meant craze or trend, so I assured her I was from the Midwest and the stampede was in full-swing. A look of bewilderment came over her and she replied, “No. We had a real stampede. Last week. That’s what we do here when hockey is off-season.” Now I can only guess what one does at a real stampede. Maybe it’s Canadian lingo for a rodeo, or maybe hundreds of Vancouverites don cowboy shirts and stampede through town, but whatever it was I missed it by a week.

Other Vancouver notes:

While on the subject of attire I’d like to mention how enjoyable I found the Vancouver’s Bard on the Beach performance of The Twelfth Night. Set in the 1920’s, the actors wore Chuck Taylors and pin-striped suits instead of tights and poofy pantaloons.

They have a library that resembles the Colosseum.

In Canada they have exciting potato chip flavors like ketchup and roasted chicken.

People are not nearly afraid enough of raccoons and rabies.

The best way to see an orca whale might be at Sea World. But to see a baby beluga all you need to do is go to the aquarium, though willfully knowing you will likely not be able to stop humming that annoying Raffi song.