Thrift flip: Turn an oversized blazer into a chic vest dress
In this episode of her CBC Life series Sewing School, Sara provides step-by-step instructions for turning an old jacket into a chic vest dress that you can wear as a layering piece for spring. She demonstrates how to remove sleeves and shoulder pads, add bias binding, adjust the waistline and more.
Watch the video for Sara's tutorial, then scroll down to get the full list of materials needed for this project.
Here's what you'll need:
An oversized blazer
A large shirt or blouse
Pins or clips
Ruler
Scissors
Snips
Sewing machine
Thread, in colour of your choice
Produced in collaboration with CBC Creator Network.
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CBC
28-07-2025
- CBC
Kicking it old school: Why these childhood friends never want to stop playing soccer together
CBC Ottawa's Creator Network is a place where young digital storytellers from diverse backgrounds can produce original video content to air on CBC and tell stories through their own lens. Victories. Losses. Injuries, career changes, moves, fatherhood. Over their more than a decade on the pitch, "No New Friends" soccer players have seen it all, says longtime player and co-organizer Nick Pouponneau. He attributes the 60-minute Ottawa Footy Sevens soccer league games to helping him and other players navigate life both on and off the field. "No matter what happens, it's always going to be there for me, whether we win, whether we lose," Pouponneau said. "Soccer to me … it's a way of life." Pouponneau decided to profile the longtime team and explore how the sport has shaped its members in a video for CBC Ottawa's Creator Network. Decades later, childhood soccer friends still kicking it on No New Friends soccer team 4 minutes ago Wins, losses, broken ankles, breakups and moves: Players on longtime team say they've seen it all, and wouldn't miss their weekly games, in video for CBC Ottawa's Creator Network. Old friends and foes "Everything's happened, right? There've been breakups, there've been new jobs, they've been marriages," said longtime player Dominic Goss about the team, which came together over a decade ago from a group of friends who'd been who'd been playing — or against each other — since they were boys. "I mean, it's been life, right? [That] happened in the meantime." When soccer scholarships and degrees wrapped, the childhood buddies found themselves back in the city, at loose ends and looking for a way to bring serious soccer back into their lives, said Pouponneau. The name references a Drake song from that era. "We called ourselves No New Friends because we just had known each other for so long that it's like, 'Oh, we don't need new friends," said Pouponneau. He joked it's ironic because these days, players struggle to balance soccer and other commitments, and they often need new friends — especially those with younger legs — to pick up the slack. Soccer bonds and life plans But Goss said the teammates' history starts much earlier, back when soccer wasn't as popular in Ottawa, and the tight-knit community, many of them new to the country, often crossed paths at the gym at St. Patrick's High School. "Soccer was very much a sport played by immigrants and the kids of immigrants," recalled Goss, whose family immigrated from South Africa. He recalls his Canadian-born school friends tended to play hockey. "So it was a great bonding experience [for newcomers] that I think was necessary for a lot of people who maybe otherwise could have felt like outsiders." "We came to Canada in 1995 … from a war-torn country, and then one of the ways I made friends ... was through soccer," confirmed longtime player Francis Mavula, whose family came from Burundi, and whose brother also plays on the team. Mavula said soccer went on to shape the course of his life. After dreaming of becoming a professional player, he scored a soccer scholarship and went on to captain the men's team at Quinnipiac University in Connecticut. "Soccer has had such a huge impact on my life. I think outside of my parents, it's been the biggest influence in who I am," he reflected, adding that he remains in touch with teammates despite being sidelined this season by a broken ankle. The sport also had a big impact on Pascal-Olivier Ouandji, who joined the team more recently. Raised in Cameroon and Kenya, he moved to southern France as a teen to pursue serious soccer at a high school affiliated with a soccer club, later coming to Ottawa with a plan to pursue sports journalism. "I was so obsessed with sports and [soccer] in particular that I kind of planned my whole life around it," said Ouandji, who like many of the players now works for the federal government and also makes music. More than just a game As they got older, many of the players say they struggled with balancing their love of the game with adult responsibilities. But for some, that made the team even more important. "I'm 39 years old. I have a two-year-old daughter now," said player Aras Tahir, who grew up with this group. "It's kind of hard to keep in touch with people, and soccer is our way." Pouponneau said he, too, is grateful for the weekly excuse to connect. "We always have these long goodbyes at the end of the game in the parking lot, and we're walking out and they're shutting off the lights in the facility," he said, explaining it's a chance to catch up on everything from kids to sleep patterns, to more serious topics. "A lot of times you'll see guys hang back and have those more deep conversations from, like, 'Hey, I'm really struggling with XYZ thing,' or, 'I'm feeling stressed about work.' Just get advice from that kind of brotherhood perspective." Now that many of the players have become dads themselves, they say the team's weekly games are a way to pass on that passion for sport and time with friends to the next generation. But despite the increasingly family feel of the weekly games and the age of the longtime players, they stress that competition is still fierce. "That's what's so great about sports. It's a continuous challenge, and especially as you get older, the challenge changes, and ... gets more difficult as well, right?" said Goss. The team was league champion last year and is in the playoffs again this season. "I mean, you know what these young guys are like. They can just run and run for days, which is not something that any of us are capable of, and as a result we rely heavily on our experience." Soccer on film Pouponneau, who now works in the fitness technology field, said he teamed up with filmmakers Pearly Pouponneau, his partner, and Evan Hartling to tell this story as a tribute not just to his childhood friend group, but to other longtime teams and groups he's seen over the years. "I think that there's a lot of versions of No New Friends out there... guys that are playing together week in week out," he said, adding that he was pleased to learn through this project just how important the team has become. "It was just a bunch of friends getting together once a week, and we didn't know where that would lead to. But it's just kind of continued for over 10 years now, where we're still doing it," reflected Mavula with a laugh. "People get older, people get hurt ... life gets complicated. I want us to just keep it going. I want us to play as long as we can," added Goss. "I can't understate the importance of how soccer shaped the trajectory of my life," said Pouponneau. "When you meet people who get it ... they get it, you know?"
CBC
24-07-2025
- CBC
Trek to Uranium City finds abandoned buildings and diehard residents
Social Sharing CBC Saskatchewan's Creator Network is a place where young digital storytellers from diverse backgrounds can produce original video content to air on CBC and tell stories through their own lens. Get in touch or pitch your own story here. In the 1950s, mining of the radioactive chemical element known as uranium went into full swing in northern Saskatchewan. The Eldorado mine at Beaverlodge, just east of Uranium City, soon became the biggest employer there. Uranium City was thriving — full of families and individuals drawn by great job opportunities. At one point, more than 3,000 people called the place home. Now, just a few dozen people live there. Ken Mercredi was born in Uranium City in 1953 and says life there was great. "We had basically everything a person would want. Even out at the mine site, they had a rec hall, and they had everything in it. There was a bowling alley, a curling rink, a pool hall, big-screen TV and gyms," Mercredi said. Hard-to-reach location Uranium City sits north of Lake Athabasca, about 50 kilometres south of Saskatchewan's border with the Northwest Territories. It's a remote place that doesn't have an all-season road connecting it to other parts of the province. But the community has long fascinated explorer Felipe Gomez. Despite the distance and difficulty getting there, Gomez was determined to make the journey to Uranium City and find out who's still there, and why. He also documented his journey for a documentary for the CBC Creator Network. WATCH | Felipe Gomez travels to Uranium City to find out who still lives in the former boom town: To get there, Gomez first flew from Saskatoon to Fort Chipewyan in northern Alberta. Next was a weeklong trek across Lake Athabasca to Uranium City, skiing 170 kilometres while being battered by winds and camping in -30 C temperatures. Gomez had some help from world-renowned explorer Eric Larsen, the only man to make it to the North Pole, the South Pole and the summit of Everest in a single year. Once the pair made it to Uranium City, Larsen had to head to another expedition. But Gomez carried on, and began his quest to learn more about the former mining mecca. A short history of uranium mining The uranium industry in Canada dates to the early 1930s, but exploration didn't get going until the years after the Second World War. Deposits in northern Saskatchewan were discovered in the 1950s and the mine at Beaverlodge began production in 1953. In the 1970s, exploration resulted in major discoveries in the Athabasca Basin, and more mines started up in northern Saskatchewan in the 1970s and 1980s. In 1981, Eldorado abruptly announced it was shutting down the mine at Beaverlodge, citing increasing production costs and falling prices, according to news reports at the time. Over the next few years, Uranium City's population declined dramatically. Uncertain future in Uranium City Dean Classen remembers the day he found out the Beaverlodge mine would close. The business owner, who still lives in Uranium City, said people were devastated and had no idea what the future held. "They announced it over CBC radio that Eldorado was shutting down," Classen said. "And there were people just moving into town. There were people on flights that day that were moving in to come to the new jobs to work for the mine." The turn of events shocked the residents of Uranium City, new and old. "People who just finished buying houses or businesses or anything, they went to zero value instantly," Classen said. "It was really weird." On the upside, Classen said Eldorado Nuclear Ltd. was able to relocate people all over the world, even giving them $10,000 to move (the equivalent of almost $30,000 in today's economy) and helping them find new jobs elsewhere. And other nuclear activity continued in the province. Cameco Corp., which was formed by the merger of Eldorado Nuclear Ltd. with a provincial Crown corporation, discovered the McArthur River deposit in 1988. Mines continue to operate today, including at McArthur River and Cigar Lake, which are the largest and highest-grade mines in the world, according to the World Nuclear Association. Abandoned city Over the years, buildings in Uranium City gradually emptied out and deteriorated. Abandoned buildings are all over the community, including houses, apartment complexes and the once bustling school. The hospital stayed open until 2003, where many people who still live in Uranium City were born. Some residents say they have no plans to leave. Samantha Sidebottom grew up in Uranium City and said it was a great experience. These days, she runs a fuel business and a bed and breakfast with her husband. "I didn't have any thoughts about this being a weird place to live until I was a bit older. I choose to stay here because it's where I love to be," Sidebottom said. She said she has felt the pressure to move away, when people ponder Uranium City's future. But she said it's the land that keeps her here. "There are people here, and we're hanging on, and we don't really want to go anywhere. I'm one of them," she said. "It's my happy place."
Toronto Star
08-06-2025
- Toronto Star
How David Bowie, the Smiths, Fleetwood Mac and others soundtracked this Toronto memoirist's queer awakening
Adam and the Ants' 'Dog Eat Dog.' The Smiths' 'Hand in Glove.' Kate Bush's 'Hounds of Love.' Fleetwood Mac's 'Sara.' This was the soundtrack to writer Pete Crighton's queer awakening and in his memoir, 'The Vinyl Diaries' (Random House Canada), he describes the transformative potential of music and its ability to stimulate the mind's incredible powers of recollection. Crighton was put up for adoption by his birth mother in 1969 and grew up in Toronto's east end with his adoptive family, and the music of the '70s and '80s resonated deeply with Crighton's adolescence. At a young age, he realized that he was gay, but it was not something that he was ready to fully embrace. Something — the cultural mores of the time, the safety of heteronormativity or the stigma of being 'out' — held him back.
