My Carhartt Boyfriend

Growing up in Alabama, believe it or not, I didn’t see a lot of folks wearing Carhartt.  It seemed like most people were usually dressed to the nines and always impeccably put together.  You know, stylin’ and profilin’.  They had the look.  Don't get me wrong.  Southern men and women know how to look mighty fine.  But up here in Alaska, style is different.  Not better or worse, just different.  And I’m enjoying it immensely.

I didn’t develop my newfound respect for Carhartt until after I moved to Alaska.  I discovered that up here in the Frozen North, you need to wear ridiculously practical clothing, and it’s got to be durable.  And warm.  Best of all, wearing Carhartt makes you fit in here, even if you've got your pearls and cashmere on underneath. 

Carhartt is worn all over the world, but it’s clearly a signature of Alaskans.  And that’s why I was so impressed to recently discover Carhartt's new advertisement campaign, shot entirely here in Alaska.  The marketing geniuses over at Carhartt really hit a home-run using real Alaskans, real scenarios, and yes – even real muskox. 

What followed this clever marketing tool is a hilarious response to the captivating masculinity of Carhartt's Fall 2012 catalog.  Dodai Stewart of jezebel.com wrote a spot-on account with Get to Know Your Carhartt Boyfriend.  Take a gander through the gallery and check out Dodai's quips. You'll be ROFL in no time.  Some of my faves are:

"Your Carhartt Boyfriend kayaks through white water just to get to home every night. The commute's a pain, but the tiny island where his log cabin is located has its charms. Electricity isn't one of them."

"Your Carhartt Boyfriend knows about some places that aren't on any map. Places deep inside your heart."

"You look cold. Your Carhartt Boyfriend will make a fire with his bare hands, or at least strike the match on his chest."

SWOON!!! 

So of course I took the liberty of coming up with a few of my own scenarios:

"Your Armani Boyfriend will treat you to a posh restaurant with a filet mignon and a bottle of ’61 Château Latour Grand Vin.  Your Carhartt Boyfriend grills up the moose he harvested last week as he was on his way back from chopping down a Sitka spruce, all because you said you wanted a “real” Christmas tree."

"Your Banana Republic Boyfriend orders risotto and truffle butter and dabs the corner of his mouth with his linen napkin.  Your Carhartt Boyfriend reaches for his buck knife, slices the fresh-from-the-fire caribou loin, and hand-feeds you."

"Your Brooks Brothers Boyfriend invests in Italian silk neck ties.  Your Carhartt Boyfriend invests in you."

"Your Nautica Boyfriend wears sunblock.  Your Carhartt Boyfriend stands in the snow with his shirt off.  Because he can."

Pick up a copy of the Fall 2012 Carhartt catalog, and see what all the fuss is about.

December 2012 First Friday Gallery Walk

By Lower 48 standards, Juneau is a small town.  With just over 32,000 people, it’s easy for folks to stereotype this town as a boring little place with not much to do.  I don’t believe this is an accurate description, and it certainly wasn’t the case for the first Friday of this month!

A long-established monthly event in Juneau is the First Friday Gallery Walk, during which galleries and shops all over Juneau open new shows and host fun receptions throughout the evening. 

Since I hadn’t been to a First Friday event in a while, I was overly ambitious in mapping out the must-see spots.  What I didn’t plan for were the crowds.  Oh my heavens, the crowds!  So many throngs of people up and down the streets, it felt like a small cruise ship was in town.  Except these folks weren’t brandishing honkin’ lenses (for the most part) and oohing and awing about eagles overhead.  These were locals, the real deal.  And what was even more exciting was running into friends everywhere you turned.  This is the charm of life in Southeast Alaska.  This is what I love about “small-town” Juneau. 

Here are some of my favorite moments from this month’s First Friday:

Notable fiber artist and friend, Fabienne Peter-Contesse, featured her art quilts and other creations at Changing Tides on South Franklin Street in the Senate Building.  Keep in mind, this is not your great-grandmomma’s quilting projects. 

Impeccably designed and superbly orchestrated, these works of art are exactly that: legitimate pieces of ART.  I was also impressed to find unique items I can use on a daily basis: iPad cases!

To view more from this wickedly talented artist, check out Fabienne’s blog, The Conceptual Quilt.

Fabienne Peter-Contesse with her stunning water and ice-themed creations in the background.

The artist and one of her hand-stitched iPad cases.

From left: myself, Fabienne, Michelle, and Debbie during Fabienne's art gallery debut.

I simply had to own one of these hand-dyed, hand-stitched cases for my new iPad.

Another fun stop during First Friday – and frankly any day of the week for that matter – is Shoefly, the charming little shoe boutique on Seward Street for folks that love shoes beyond reason.  Shoefly even had complimentary shoe-shaped cookies by Chef Stef, and they hosted the Juneau Rollergirls as they sold their 2013 calendars and modeled Shoefly shoes. Love this place!

Top Row – The Shoefly Ladies: Jamie, Dawn Walsh (co-owner), and Cameron.  Not pictured: Sydney Mitchell (co-owner).

Bottom Row – Michelle and myself.

Window shopping takes a whole new meaning at Art Sutch Photography on Seward Street where you can usually find a massive pooch perched in the storefront window.  I suspect Luna is the most photographed dog in Juneau.  But aside from the Tibetan Mastiff, the real draw Friday night was freelance photographer Chris Miller's impressive gallery display.  I especially enjoyed his Alaska maritime photos –a la "Deadliest Catch" and very striking.

I didn’t snap shots of Chris’ photos since it just wouldn’t do it justice, but you can check out his outstanding Alaska-themed work here: http://www.csmphotos.com/ and http://csmphotos.wordpress.com/.

Luna and the Bota Box o' wine.

She's alive and friendly.

And of course, December isn’t complete without an encounter with jolly old St. Nick!

Michelle with Santa, Mrs. Claus, and The Hat.

Naughty or nice?  He had to check his list twice.

Icebergs and Snow Angels

This past weekend, Juneau was under a winter storm warning, and much of the area was blanketed by beautiful powdery snow.  My friend, Becky, and I decided to explore the Mendenhall Glacier area and put our cameras to good use.  Becky is an outstanding photographer, and I enjoy lollygagging around town with her, even if she is a Nikon fan.  ;-) 

The Mendenhall Glacier area is so enticing this time of year because the Mendenhall Lake (the body of water at the terminus of the glacier) is frozen in the winter, and it becomes an expansive playground for skiers, ice skaters, ice climbers, hikers, and other adventurers.  My favorite part is hiking out to the giant icebergs frozen into the lake.  There’s something remarkably serene yet perilous about those towering ice formations.  From the safety of the lake’s shoreline, the icebergs look the size of knots on a log.  But after trekking what seems like miles across the ice, one realizes these icebergs are massive, some the size of buses, some the size of homes. 

And this, my friends, is the moment in which I make the very clear statement: the glacier is never safe!  Glaciers are unpredictable!  Proceed with caution!   UNSAFE, I tell ya!

Becky and I naturally heeded that wisdom and after establishing a game plan of safety measures to attempt if one of us fell through the ice, we were on our way.  But it didn’t last long.  About five minutes into our hike across the ice, our steps became slushy and our boots began breaking through the surface.  Now I don’t know about you, but when I start feeling the ice crack below me when I’m walking ON A FROZEN LAKE, I start shakin’ like a hound dog poopin’ peach pits. 

We made it to land, which I might add was covered in more than a foot of snow, and both of us were without snowshoes.  It was one heckuva workout.  We started on the trail to Nugget Falls, thinking that route was a safer bet, and we were psyched to try our cameras out on the icy waterfalls.  After hiking a bit further, an enormous blue iceberg came into view, not far from an adjacent shore.  Change of plans again, and we opted for the path less traveled.  After many tentative and careful steps, we found ourselves face-to-face with a landscape of fused together icebergs. 

Each iceberg is unique, and upon closer examination, each one appears more and more breathtaking.  The shades of blue are indescribable.  “50 Shades of Grey”?  Pfftt.  These fifty shades of blue are more alluring.  The cobalt, azure, cerulean, and even Tiffany blue tones are charming, downright captivating.  I can’t get enough.  And neither can the daring souls who climb aboard those icebergs throughout the winter, positioning themselves in the nooks and crannies carved by nature, hundreds of years in the making. 

Becky and I had a blast treading carefully around these humbling formations.  On our way back, it was a chorus of laughter.  Snow angels were made, our bodies were frozen, but surprisingly not a single snowball was thrown.  It took us awhile to unthaw, but our breathless wide-eyed moments out on the ice made it all completely worth it.

Read more about the allure and danger of the Mendenhall Glacier here: http://juneauempire.com/stories/010311/loc_764726578.shtml

An Awakening

I am not a morning person.  Never have been and probably never will be.  But I have friends who are the opposite, who enjoy getting up at the crack of dawn to read the news or run their dogs or watch the sun rise.  But me?  Get me up before 7am, and I’m ‘bout as useful as a screendoor on a submarine.

This morning in my hometown of Huntsville, Alabama, the sun rose at 6:35am.  I remember those early mornings of warm sunlight pouring in my bedroom windows.  And unless there was a fresh box of Krispy Kremes on the kitchen counter, I had no interest in getting out of bed until the last possible moment.

When I was considering moving to Alaska, the naysayers cautioned me about the extremes, that the whole state is pitch black dark in the winter and 24 hours of sunlight in the summer.  I was pleased to discover this isn’t the case for most of Alaska, especially in Juneau.

I've got to admit though, in the winter it’s tough driving to work in the dark – but spectacular sunrises make it all worth it.  When it’s not raining sideways or socked in with ice fog, the most awe-inspiring sunrises can be seen on the horizon.  This morning, the sun didn’t rise until 8:19am, and these shots were snapped about two hours later.  What a blessing it is to live here and see this glorious view on occasion!

Sunrise over Gastineau Channel