Here at FLARE, we have a lot in common: a love of fashion, beauty, magazines, culture and general wordsmithery. But as we rush around putting together the magazine and this website, we don’t always have time to share the minutiae of our passions. What do we binge-watch on a rainy weekend? What album is on iPod repeat? What movies make us cry? Hence, Editors’ Picks was born. A column where you can get to know the people who bring you FLARE—and maybe we can get to know one another a little better, too.
Alicia Cox Thomson; Managing Editor, Digital
I’m an admitted Anglo-phile. It could be hereditary, passed down to me by my (non-English) mother through her love of Masterpiece Mystery, a good cup of tea and historical fiction. So when I first saw a preview of the 8-part British series Broadchurch, I set my DVR with glee. It’s a modern mystery set in a picturesque town on the Dorset coast; all craggy cliffs, sandy beaches and charming townsfolk. And sunshine, something you don’t often see in British dramas. Scottish Detective Inspector Alec Hardy (David Tennant: super-broody, new to town, keeping secrets) and cheery local Detective Sergeant Ellie Miller (Olivia Colman: super-emotive, just back from mat leave, passed over for Hardy for the D.I. promotion she was promised) investigate the murder of an 11-year old boy. The story is drawn out slowly, but masterfully—it’s a traditional whodunit with a new suspect each episode, but the writing, character development and gorgeous cinematography elevate it beyond the norm. But you don’t have to take my word for its addictive appeal: when the finale first aired in the UK in April of this year, 35 per cent of the population tuned in. Broadchurch airs Sundays at 10pm on Showcase
Jillian Vieira; Assistant Market Editor
Not sure about your Canadian locale, but Toronto mornings as of late have gained that unmistakable feeling of fall. To sooth my not-so-Gemini aversion to major change, I break out a collection of seasonal albums that are distinctly autumn-sounding with a sense of comforting familiarity. Enter Fleet Foxes’ self-titled album, The Antlers’ Hospice and Canadian indie darling Bahamas’ Barchords. All chilly sounds that are the signal of summer’s swan song.
Rudy Lee; Research Editor
As a staunch cyclist, my buying decisions revolve heavily around commuting. I’ve long maintained that there’s no studier shoe than a Prada; for fall, every shoe that stomped down Miuccia’s runways had the heftiest of rubber lug soles. I earmarked a pair of handsome dark-burgundy, calf-leather derbies back in January as the only shoes worth having for fall and purchased them last week the day after they arrived in store. If these don’t convince you to cycle through the rigours of a harsh winter, there’s not much else I can say. Read more about our love of lug soles in the September issue, on newsstands, iPad and tablet now.
Andrew Lovesey; Digital Editor
The Postal Service’s album Give Up has been engraved in my mind for a decade now. I could recite the entire record from start to finish without even pausing for a break between tracks; call it the anthem of my teenage years. Which is why I should be slapped for not listening to the ten year anniversary re-release until this week. Really, slap me. Aside from the original Give Up, there are fifteen bonus tracks—remixes old and new—in the two disc package. You heard me, that’s 1.7 hours (according to my iTunes) of The Postal Service ready for listening. Though the duo hasn’t given me an entirely new album, my craving has been satiated, at least for now.