The apartment I’m staying in for the month of July is in the strangest part of town. Bridal gown shops, art galleries, the anti-aging store. And on top of the weird neighbourhood juju, the actual apartment itself is without any curtains or drapes, and has a large picture window all along one side.

For a lady like myself, so deprived of city life for some time, this is a wonderful thing: to wake in the night and see the skyline staring back at me, the CN tower glowing red and blue and green, the moon moving across the sky.

The downside, of course, is that people can TOTALLY see me while I’m changing unless I cower in the bathroom. I did that for the first few days, but then thought, what the hell, I’m living my life. It was liberating, exciting. And now though I’m okay with the nakedness part I’ve come to take an interest in what I can see through other similarly non-cloaked window views. (So far, nothing fruitful.)

In an attempt to streamline my media content with my living situation, I watched Hitchcock’s “Rear Window” the other day. Though I knew what was going to happen, as it’s been parodied in so many pop culture items (also, I saw “Disturbia,” bleh…), it was so charming and giggle-inducing to screen the original, about staring too much and too often and too curiously at one’s neighbours through their open windows.

I enjoyed imagining Hitchcock directing the adorable Grace Kelly and now I know the secret, it’s all about properly serving the lady a cup of tea.


Grace Kelly and Alfred Hitchcock by Edward Quinn, 1954

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