The Girl’s Gone Diva. DivaCup, That Is.

It wasn't just the trashing of spoiled underwear every month. It was the stained sheets. It was the stealth moves to the women's washroom at work. It was the awkward moments mid-stretch with male trainers. And it was most certainly the tiresome exercise of standing in the Shopper's Drug Mart aisle, piecing together the required assortment of regular, super, super plus and 'active' protection without hemorrhaging dollars from my spending budget.


Chin Up

I nearly dismissed the invitation altogether. Botox and cosmetic treatments aren’t really my thing. But, coming from an acquaintance in the fashion biz, the opportunity piqued my interest. So I made my way to the swanky Thompson Hotel, where I mingled with beauty writers...