OpinionSnapshots: Captured by a capsule wardrobe, Don’t talk to me in a...

Snapshots: Captured by a capsule wardrobe, Don’t talk to me in a parking lot, Lake living, & I like my coffee like I like my women: small, pink, and puck-shaped

This article was published on April 7, 2021 and may be out of date. To maintain our historical record, The Cascade does not update or remove outdated articles.
Reading time: 4 mins

Captured by a capsule wardrobe

Chandy Dancey

I’m ready to break up with my closet. Everything I pull out to wear nowadays just feels “blah” and uninspired. I’ve already worn all the interesting outfits my wardrobe has to offer, and I’m ready to try something new. Keep in consideration that I’m someone who hardly ever invests in new clothes, so I’ve had the same closet for half a decade. What I want is a fresh start — a capsule wardrobe. Where my drawers are filled to the brim with fabric, a capsule wardrobe embraces minimalism. Where my current closet has a variety of statement pieces, a capsule wardrobe centres on versatility.

The idea behind a capsule wardrobe is to focus on your favourite pieces, in colours and styles that harmonize and can be mixed and matched, and shop more intentionally to keep things minimal. Now that I’ve lost attachment to my current set of clothes, I’m free to convert my closet to the capsule wardrobe of my dreams. So, when UFV gears up to return to in-person classes, be prepared. There’ll be a new fashionista on campus, and I don’t think y’all are ready.

Don’t talk to me in a parking lot

Andrea Sadowski

A few weeks ago I hiked up a difficult peak in the Coquihalla Summit Recreation Area with my friend. The views at the top were gorgeous, and we were still talking about just how stellar the mountains were when we made it to the parking lot.

We walked past a couple of guys who appeared to be sharing a joint in the back of their truck while gazing at a mountain. As we walked past they called out to us “Is one of you Melissa?” “No,” we said. “Sorry, I meant Alison. Is one of you Alison?” “No,” we said again, as we walked faster back to my car, which was in the furthest parking stall there was from the trailhead. 

We almost made it to my vehicle when a car with another two guys pulled up to us and asked “Did you make it to the top?” My friend was having none of it and was already waiting at my car. Me, feeling chatty, told the guys that we did make it to the top of Zupjok Peak. Sensing my friend’s heightened anxiety, I unlocked my car, only to find her fully freaking out and wanting to drive out of the parking lot as fast as we could.

My first assumption was not that we were going to get kidnapped and trafficked when two different groups of guys talked to us in a random parking lot / truck rest stop on the Coquihalla, but the more I thought about it, the creepier it was. These guys probably meant us no harm and didn’t intend to freak us out. I just think that men don’t realize how their actions may be perceived because they have never feared for their life when a stranger approaches them. 

To men — as hard as it may be, put yourself in the shoes of whom you approach, look at the context, setting, and learn to read body language. If for a moment you think the other person may feel unsafe or uncomfortable — stop.

Lake living

Carissa Wiens

From newborn to the age of five, my family and I lived in a small rancher home right in front of Albert Dyck Lake in Abbotsford. Surprisingly though, we never actually spent any sunny summer Sundays swimming at the lake. The only times we visited the lake were for bike rides around it in the fall. Only now in my adulthood do I find it incredibly odd that we lived within walking distance of Abbotsford’s only swimmable lake but never jumped in. Maybe my parents didn’t want to introduce my sisters and I to the joys of dipping in a nearby lake on a warm day in fear that we’d never stay at home again. Maybe they thought it was just a place for punk teens to lounge about when skipping class. Maybe they thought my sisters and I would secretly swim out of the roped-off area and get hit by the speed boats.

After speculation I decided to just ask my mom, who thought about it and said, “I think we just thought it was dirty.”

Case closed. 

I like my coffee like I like my women: small, pink, and puck-shaped

Mikaela Collins

Like many people, I take my daily pills first thing in the morning: antidepressants, vitamin D, vitamin B, and, most importantly, two 200-mg caffeine pills. 

Caffeine pills razed a brutal path through my high school theatre class — we were locked in the combination auditorium/cafeteria until seven or eight at night, three nights a week, doing kicks, jumps, and dance moves that would make Gene Kelly blush. Well, other people were doing those. I, personally, was excused from dancing due to what the teacher called a “spectacular” lack of coordination. But we were all exhausted, and when someone brought a bottle of Wake-Ups to tech, Sardis Secondary’s theatre kids succumbed to chaos. People were shaking so hard their makeup zigzagged. People were crashing and falling asleep on top of costumes that held generations of teenage boy sweat. My friend who played Chino in West Side Story took 10 tablets before going on stage for the finale and finished the scene five minutes before everybody else. We were a mess. 

When I graduated, I thought I was done with caffeine pills. Then, I quit my job at Starbucks and stopped getting a free pound of coffee a week and three free venti iced Americanos a day. Did you guys know that coffee is expensive? Did you know that caffeine withdrawals make you feel like your head is going to explode like a watermelon wrapped in rubber bands? Did you also know that a bottle of caffeine pills is like, 10 bucks? 

They’re cheap, effective, and turn real coffee into a special treat on a lazy morning or an afternoon of studying. Also, they’re better for my liver than all the Tylenol I would take trying to wean myself off of them. There’s truly no downside. 

(Elyssa English /The Cascade)
Other articles

Chandy is a biology major/chemistry minor who's been a staff writer, Arts editor, and Managing Editor at The Cascade. She began writing in elementary school when she produced Tamagotchi fanfiction to show her peers at school -- she now lives in fear that this may have been her creative peak.

Other articles

Andrea Sadowski is working towards her BA in Global Development Studies, with a minor in anthropology and Mennonite studies. When she's not sitting in front of her computer, Andrea enjoys climbing mountains, sleeping outside, cooking delicious plant-based food, talking to animals, and dismantling the patriarchy.

Other articles
Other articles
RELATED ARTICLES

Upcoming Events

About text goes here