one of my most favorite photo spreads i've seen in years, this is taken from the 2008 fashion rocks issue. is that george harrison you ask? no, his gorgeous son dhani and model sasha pivovarova. god, i can't get over how much he looks like his father.

song of the day

haiti by arcade fire


2009 has been the hardest year of my life, and i'm somewhat looking forward to 2010. not to say 2009 was a total bust; i partied hard, met a lot of cool people and grew up a fuck-load. i've decided that 2010 is gonna be THE YEAR OF AWESOME. decided to give myself a little check list.

i know it's so overplayed, but honestly, roaming europe has been a dream of mine for years. london, liverpool, manchester, paris, copenhagen, helsinki, amsterdam, venice, berlin, denmark, stockholm etc.

yeah, this is just getting silly. it's about time i've flown from the nest, because i've been told; mississauga ruins friendships. i have lots of friends with comfy couches, but i can only loiter for so long. time to go cutlery shoppin', cause baby... i's be comin' to the city.

whether it's writing, painting, designing, music... i just want to start making some cash with the talent i've got. it's about goddamn time; someone fucking RECOGNIZE ME already!

that would be nice.

with the plan i have, the place i plan on moving to will be cheap enough to actually start saving money for the first time in my life (hopefully considering i will have a well paying job to boot) and then i can start up that fund for my vacation house in france for when i'm an adorable old lady.

with whom? not sure, anyone who's down. i'm very lucky to have a lot of really talented musical friends, and i think we should all put our heads together and create a st. peppers lonely hearts club band of our own. lt. awesome's friendly face club band. eh? EH?

song of the day

you can't always get what you want by the rolling stones


song of the day

i got up late this afternoon; well, that's what happens when you fall asleep around 4 am the night before i guess. i got up, made a coffee, combed my hair and put on my acid-wash leggings and my gigantic sky blue vintage lacost sweater. as i go downstairs, my dad asks me if i, just like him, have a craving for a burrito. a very bizarre question to be asked, considering the caffeine hadn't set it yet and i hadn't had my first cigarette of the day. i haven't left the house in a few days due to be being completely broke, so i agreed more or less to get outside for a bit. after munching down, i came home and the only thing that made sense to me was a 3 o'lcock cocktail, consisting of a perfectly mixed gin and tonic. i put on the radio and low and behold; they've already started playing 24 hours of christmas music on some stations. i was just having a conversation with my dad about how little i seem to care or even feel like it's remotely even close to christmas and how each year i seem to become less and less of a christmas fan. but when i heard elvis serenading voice, ugh! i grabbed my cat zoey, and we had a nice slow dance in the kitchen. so here it is folks, a very christmas-y song of the day.

blue christmas by elvis presley

song of the day

just like honey by the jesus and mary chain



last weekend, my two lovely male friends hal and justin took myself as well as my female counterpart jen to a little diner tucked away off the streets of college called aunties & uncles. i couldn't believe i hadn't been there before, because i haven't stopped thinking about it since. i sit on the edges of chairs and find myself gazing into space; little pools of saliva gathering behind my teeth. sunday brunch is a busy time of day, and my pal hal insisted the 45 minute wait for a table was totally worth it. besides, it was a lovely november morning. we had coffee, cigarettes and conversation and that's all we needed.

aunties & uncles, located at 74 lippincott (one block east of bathurst on college st.), is a little restaurant painted in pastel blues and greens and yellows where the walls are graced with old photography, advertisements and other strange knickknacks. the tables are old and creaky kitchen sets from the 50's, and the waitresses are adorable. when it comes to the menu, it's not entirely large but there's enough of a selection that can make anyone happy. and did i mention it's dirt cheap? most breakfast and lunch entree's range anywhere from $12 and under. everything started off great with an amazing cup of coffee, and from there i ordered the cinnamon french toast for $7.25. it came stacked up, three thick cinnamon bread slices grilled to perfection with a generous serving of butter and maple syrup. a little side of fruit was delish as well. i even stole a few of jen's potatoes, which were so tasty and cooked perfectly. i could barely finish the plate, and i was mmm'ing for the rest of the day. i'm definitely going back as soon as possible, because i seriously think about my auntie and uncle's on a daily basis. and hey, blog t.o. voted it "the best brunch in toronto". it's that good.

aunties & uncles are open 7 days a week from 9am - 3pm.


when ever i feel romance is really dead, i simply remind myself...

visit my brand new blog about the worst dating/sex stories i've ever been told (all anonymous) at R.I.P. ROMANCE. if you have any good stories, send them my way at ripromance@hotmail.com.



not only is this hair cut a fucking breeze to blow dry, but i barely even have to brush it. i wake up, shake my head and i'm ready to go. no styling product needed, no straightener needed... this has got to be the laziest hair cut i've ever had. and fuck, if you have bed-head it's a plus!

there is absolutely nothing wrong with looking like a boy. i actually like looking like a boy sometimes, the top half anyways, then you fucking throw a real awesome-grenade at all the boys by wearing a really sexy pair of boots or something. is she a tom boy? is she a high-maintenance snob? no ladies; you can be both. they'll never know. like i'm gonna be caught dead with an up-do anyways.

low straight bangs are a girls best friend, and i can't say that enough. not only do they look amazing on pretty much every face shape or hair length, but if they're low and dramatic enough, you can get away for days without wearing a single dollop of mascara. AND NO ONE KNOWS/CARES.

this cut is great to do up with a fancy dress or black blazer and heels. OR, you can wear a ridiculous crocheted sweater vest from 1972 and because of your awesome hair, doesn't quite look as ridiculous or some reason. how this happens, i don't know, but don't question it.


pirater la radio

called "the boat that rocked" when it was released in uk theaters, pirate radio is a little ditty of a film i found myself watching last week. i must say, i thoroughly enjoyed it... but for reasons that most film critics don't give two shits about. first and foremost, the soundtrack was fucking phenomenal. the kinks, the turtles, the stones, martha reeves and the vandellas, the who, the easybeats... ask my pal hal, i was toe tapping a bit. this was definitely the saving grace of the picture. taking place in the mid-60's, there was no way that the costumes weren't going to be amazing. the outfits are fucking fantastic, even. not to mention, aside from one of my favorite actors philip seymour hoffman being one of the cast members, the rest of the gang are all hilarious and talented british actors and comedians. the story line was a little too wide open, but at the same time, i wasn't expecting much. going into the film, i knew it was about a bunch of dirty british rock dj's illegally broadcasting all over the uk from a gigantic steam ship in the middle of the ocean. insert sex, drugs and more rock'n'roll and bam, you have a film. that's all i really wanted, but the ending was a little disappointing and cheese. you'll see it and understand. i'm not saying that this is a waste of money, because it's not. just don't expect an oscar nod, it's really just two hours spent on a swinging party ship. and i was tooootally okay with that.






1. What was life life growing up as Erin Pea?

I grew up in a Turkish family. I grew up with a very hard-working mother who has been making my clothing since I was a baby, a deranged brother, and a father who has spent most of my life working in B.C., New Brunswick, Texas, California and Maryland. I've lived a pretty comfy life I guess, but you know, "it's complicated".

2. Favorite item of clothing?

My favourite item of clothing, oh god, would have to be anything from the H&M Comme Des Garçons line. This includes but is not limited to my white "pirate shirt" with gigantic frilly sleeves, and my black low-crotch harem/ninja pants that are designed flawlessly. I also love my vest designed by Penelope Cruz, annnd pretty much anything my mom has made me.

3. Favorite song and why?

According to my iPod's "most played" list, it would be "I'm Good I'm Gone" by Lykke Li.

4. Your ultimate vice?

The City featuring Whitney Port. Enough said.

5. Tell me about TOO RUDE, and what we can expect to see in the future?

TOO RUDE is an online magazine/e-zine about things I find interesting in our culture. I hope to have a Swedish music podcast up and running once I get some free time on my hands as I really love to focus on Scandinavian art, design, fashion, music, and culture (although my e-zine is not limited to that). I'd like to get a bit more critical too (without scaring people off).

6. If you could share straight shots of Jack Daniels with anyone, living or deceased, who would it be?

When I think of this question, Iggy Pop immediately comes to mind, but 40 years ago. Also, I imagine drinking with Ondi Timoner, director of "We Live in Public" which is the most fucked up and darkest documentary I have ever seen. It would be really interesting to, how you say, "lament" with her.

7. In terms of your biggest inspirations, what comes to mind?

Björk and Karin Dreijer Andersson of the Knife/Fever Ray are my biggest inspirations, and I am deeply inspired by cities (Berlin, Malmo, NYC, Ho Chi Minh Ciy). Essentially that is what TOO RUDE is about - it's about highlighting the real, not the fake. It is about speaking your mind and not being ashamed. You deal with any criticism that comes your way in a positive fashion.

8. In a perfect world...

The Toronto Transit Commission would actually work with efficiency and there would be bike lanes for all!

9. What are your plans in terms of your traveling inhibitions?

Traveling prohibitions/restrains? I don't think this question makes sense. Do you mean maybe where I'd want to travel to but can't at the moment? I definitely need to be back in Copenhagen and Malmo, but I also want to check out Barcelona. I've been told by a friend that if I were a city, I would be Barcelona. The list goes on; I have adored Japan since I was a child. Ever since entering university, I have become enamored by Latin America, particularly Argentina.

10. What do you love, and hate, about living in Toronto?

I kind of answered this one already! I abhor the TTC but love the cultural diversity and creativity of Toronto. Out of all the cities I have been to, Toronto has the most interesting people and a huge freak:normal person ratio. However, I wish Torontonians would dance a little more.

11. If you could steal something from my closet, what would it be and why?

Raiding Brit's closet would include the teefing of some sweet vintage coats and some ridiculous sunglasses.

12. What is your worst fear?

My worst fear is being lost alone and not being able to find a way back. I'm afraid of debt too, and I'm deathly afraid of how I am going to react when my cat dies because he is old and well, cats don't live forever.

12. What is something you can't live without?

I can't live without outstanding Turkish and Italian cuisine, cheese and tomato sandwiches, Oxford shoes, bicycles, cats, and my boyfriend/friends. I also need to be learning something all the time, so I couldn't live without language.

13. Why should people read TOO RUDE?

Why should read you TOO RUDE? Pfft, what a question. Why don't you go and see for yourself, let me know, and then get back to me?

Erin is wearing Comme des Garcons for H&M ninja/harem pants, shoes from Payless, black tank from Bangkok market, vest from Penelope Cruz for Mango, silver necklace is vintage Turkish, silver bracelet from Vietnam




christmas is just a little over a month away.
i usually don't care that much, but this year, a girl's gotta dream.


okay, we'll start with something a little more realistic. i've had my share of ipods, but they've been first generations. i have the very first ipod ever available, and of course it's completely useless. i've been ipodless for a few years, thus, unable to bring music around with me. i guess this is somewhat of a good thing, because i've been able to catch up on my reading. but i'd like my transportable music back, thank you.


here's when it gets a little ridiculous. ah, paris... je t'aime. so, who ever is willing, i would need a round trip flight, hotel, and enough cash to supply my cigarettes, sparkling wine and vogue habits. you can come with me, if you'd like. we can try things on in chanel but not actually buy anything, eat fresh fruit crepes on the street, walk down the brick lanes at night holding hands and just smoke smoke smoke smoke sitting on the patio chairs in front of quirky old cafes. it's really the only place in the world that i feel so robbed for never have been to before, so someone? anyone?


this one in particular has always been one of my favorite bjork pieces, but i would happily accept someone breaking into her home, and then her closet, taking it, packaging it up in a big bow and handing it over. she seems like a tiny woman, but i don't mind not eating for a few months to squeeze in. i think i would wear it every damn day.


i'm sure someone i know must have a degree of separation from sir paul, so pick up your phones and start making some calls. i just want to make some pots of tea and bring some jam and bread onto a cute little sail boat (i'm sure paul will supply), throw on some shades, listen to some tunes and shoot the shit. i don't even care that he has flabby old dude boobs, i'm sure they're fabulous. i think he'd enjoy my company.


who wouldn't want one of these. i'd find room for it, and i'd probably use it every day. every time someone came over and graced me with their company, either for wine or dinner, i'd have them take a photos with me and then i'd have a massive collection of adorable pictures with all of my wonderful friends. nice, right?


okay, you grab a tambourine, you grab a trumpet, you grab a few sauce pans and some wooden spoons; everyone, join in! we can write songs about how awesome we are and all of the stupid shit we do. inside jokes and ridiculous anecdotes with lots of "oohs" and "aahs". maybe a little glockenspiel as well. i want to call it "brittney and friends". this isn't so unrealistic, is it? who's in?


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beautiful skin photography supplied by the talented mr. carl heindl



a little visit to the v v boutique does a girl good. today, i picked up an amazing pair of knee-high leather brown boots with a fucking awesome buckle on the side; $12. got myself two little kitch knitted bird art pieces for my room; together, $4. also picked up an amazing thick-knit black shawl; $3. and, sadly, a little baby casio for $5 but it doesn't work. i will find another one of you, baby casio!




i received an email from the pubisher of the book i've been lucky enough to have been chosen to be a part of, WE FEEL FINE, and an online excerpt of the book has been launched online today. my page is available for view! it's just too bad that three years ago, i really believed what i wrote was true. but things change, no regrets, and hey... i've been published. check me out, middle far left.

check out the rest of the book online right now! WE FEEL FINE
i had awoken up a little late this morning, having come down with some sort of cold... i felt crappy, drab and miserable. i completely forgot what day it was; remembrance day. as i head downstairs to make myself a cup of honey lemon tea, i overheard the sound of bagpipes from the room over. my dad was watching the ottawa remembrance day ceremony; completely entranced and glued to the screen. my dad had always been a huge history buff, especially when it comes to war history. he knows everything about nearly every single war in the last 400 years, and he single handedly helped me pass every history course i've ever taken with flying colours. not only that, but he served as a young boy, military school and such, but obviously never fought. my dad comes from a very military family. my dad's twin brother, my uncle tom, has done everything from jumping out of planes to being invited to prince charles and lady di's wedding. nearly all of my grandfathers, great grandfathers and great uncles have served. but if there was one thing i thought about most today, it's my grandpa townson at the age of 18 being sent over to germany and france to serve. can you believe being a boy of 18 walking into the most important war of human history? to him, it was probably just another adventure. i'm very lucky every single year that he came home safe and found, aside from a gun wound which was actually the reason he came home. i wouldn't be here.

when he was alive, he never spoke of the war. my dad said that he never spoke a word of the war to him until he was in his mid-twenties. there were memories that he seemed to want to bury, heavily. he lost a lot of friends, and saw a lot of horrible things. but he never forgot. so maybe it's hard to really get emotionally involved during remembrance day; i know, i used to be that way. but when i see the old men wearing their uniform proudly, my mind transforms them back into naive 18 year old boys, and then it strikes me. what if they were my boyfriend? my brother? they've done something for us that can never be repayable, and that's enough of a reason for me to at least give my attention today.

on a completely unrelated note, over the hot lemon honey tea, my dad told me the funniest tidbit of family history out of completely nowhere... my great great great great great (i think) grandfather was charles townshend who was a british politician/chancellor of the exchequer. he was the creator of the townshend acts (yes, this is actually real)...

Townshend Acts
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Charles Townshend spearheaded the Townshend Acts, but died before their detrimental effects became apparent.
The Townshend Acts were a series of acts passed beginning in 1767 by the Parliament of Great Britain relating to the British colonies in North America. The acts are named for Charles townshend, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who proposed the program. Historians vary slightly in which acts they include under the heading "Townshend Acts", but five laws are frequently mentioned: the Revenue Act of 1767, the Indemnity Act, the Commissioners of Customs Act, the Vice Admiralty Court Act, and the New York Restraining Act.[1]
The purpose of the Townshend Acts was to raise revenue in the colonies to pay the salaries of governors and judges so that they would be independent of colonial control, to create a more effective means of enforcing compliance with trade regulations, to punish the province of New York for failing to comply with the 1765 Quartering Act, and to establish the precedent that the British Parliament had the right to tax the colonies.[2] The Townshend Acts met with resistance in the colonies, prompting the occupation of Boston by British troops in 1768, which eventually resulted in the Boston Massacre of 1770. Ironically, on the same day as the massacre in Boston, Parliament began to consider a motion to partially repeal the Townshend duties.[3] Most of the new taxes were repealed, but the tax on tea was retained. The British government continued in its attempt to tax the colonists without their consent, however, and the Boston Tea Party and the American Revolution

article link here

thank god i look nothing like him.

it's funny, i'm looking back at all of this wikipedia townshend stuff and it appears that all of the men from my family's past were politicians. or wig salesmen. hmm. anyways, today is definitely about reflection, mostly on your family, your past and where you are today and how bloody lucky you should feel. i know i do.




HELP... I'm obsessed with HELP! I just finished watching HELP!(the wonderfully cheeky 1965 film starring the beatles) for the 30 millionth time and i'm going to share with you (those who have seen it, those who haven't) my favorite parts. i'd give you the whole synopsis shpeal, but you can just click here and read it instead.

cute slap-stick humor with a quick shot of a george's shirt being ripped off. i laugh every time.

this was the one thing about HELP! that i always remembered since i was a kid; mostly, john's little bed lowered into the ground. jeeeaalllooouusss. why george always has what appears to be a homeless man hanging out in his room is beyond me.

lucky bitch.

cute, clearly, and i especially enjoy when george points out "i need you, by george harrison" when it pops up on the screen. he says it again, later. oh, george. hit the 8 minute mark to check it out.

why do they always fall? not only do they fall on concrete, hardwood, but they also fall off of sleds, skies, beds, bikes... COCONUTS. you name it, they've tripped on it. watch those beatle boots, boys.

clearly, the script is weak and it's definitely not an oscar worthy piece of art to the average film critic; but this movie warms my heart and makes me smile. what else do you want, paul mcartney fucking shrinks and takes a bath in an ash tray for crying out loud.