Shopping Horrors and Genius Design
My most favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. No gifts. No pressure. It’s just a good old-fashioned food holiday. Amen.
Christmas is another story entirely. It blows. Or at least shopping for Christmas does. Obviously celebrating the birth of our Sweet Baby Jesus does not blow. Having to spend your life savings to make sure everybody gets a present, totally does.
I would also like to point out that these two holidays fall MUCH to close together. If they were just a few months apart I might actually enjoy seeing my family again. I’m usually so GD cranky from all the “fun” I’ve had at Thanksgiving I’m not quite ready for Round Two and all the expense it entails.
Even if the gifts were free the shopping has become so painful for me, I’m thinking of taking up a non-Christmas celebrating religion. Like Jehovah’s Witness or something.
Perhaps if you have never worked retail you can’t imagine how bad the public sucks and their infinite capacity for STUPID. I have. That means I am very nice to people that work retail, and that also means I get super pissed when the retail associate is rude. Like, “Uh, uh, girl. I know you just didn’t take that tone with me!” kind of pissed, with a few snaps and some head weaving.
Ugh! So this year I managed to do all my Christmas shopping in four hours, in one painful afternoon. I took the ‘rip the band-aid off fast’ approach. Which makes me feel like I might have missed a few people… But I then found myself distracted and shopping for a little something for me, in Macy’s. (I had a gift card.)
So I have a new shopping experience that is so horrible it almost rivals Christmas shopping on a weekday with 8 million other people that should be at work. (I mean SERIOUSLY! Does no one in Austin work during the week?) Unless you’re shopping for shoes or make-up, you should seriously avoid Macy’s this season.
I entered Macy’s and found myself dazed from the stink of perfume, moving like a ping-pong ball between the ‘Tiny Hiney’ and ‘I’m a Racey Slut’ section before mistakenly wandering past the crazy sweater sets that scream ‘I’m a Cat Lady.’ I had a very scary trip thru the velour sweat suits before I found tops that somehow managed to defy the law of physics and make even the poor manikin look fat. Which isn’t a good sign. And that was the entire store if you don’t count ‘Children’s.’ Am I the only one that feels ‘Normal Women’s Apparel’ is grossly underrepresented at Macy’s?
Next I tried Gap, another big mistake. Apparently Gap has reverted to selling the stuff American Eagle threw out in 1996, or a crazed flannel loving lumberjack has redone the entire place. It’s frightening.
Am I that old? (Seriously. Do NOT answer that.) Have I outgrown the Gap? Or perhaps now that I’ve been exposed to retailers like Ann Taylor and Nordstrom’s it makes it really hard to plunk down $40.00 for a cotton top that looks like your Uncle Joe and his beer gut borrowed it for bowling after it’s first washing. Or worse, you can spend more than 50 bucks for a Macy’s top, and the only place you’re able to wear it is out to your neighbor’s quinceanera.
And now I shall leave you with the image of my clothing montage. An ode to hideous fashion trends:
I envision a gold sequin top matched with a velour skirt in purple, worn over black and white polka dot tights. A traditional red and black flannel will drape the shoulders on chilly nights and a back up Santa sweater (reindeer embroidering included) is to be wrapped at the waist. Low-top Chuck Taylors in purple can be used for day, and a black ankle boot cuffed in suede for evening.
Well I’ll be damned. Add a dash of patchouli and I've just created the most perfect, New Age Hippie outfit. Eat your heart out Isaac Mizrahi and break out the booze. My shopping's done, my outfit's planned and I feel a little cheerful!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Books of Note
To Blog or To Jog
Where does time go? Where have I been for the last 3 weeks, you ask? I have been busy trying to dry out after my pumpkin pie binder. I managed to take down 3 pies in the short 10 days before Thanksgiving… And there may have been a few more pie incidents over the actual Holiday. Which I have since renamed the Sugar Daze.
Since the beginning of November I have been mourning my Holiday weight gain by stuffing my face with chocolates. I also have spent some time reading and trying to convince myself the pain in my knees and hips will get better if I simply jog it out.
(The aforementioned most incredible Chocolates in the entire world can be found in Fredericksburg, Texas at ‘Quintessential Chocolates.’ Or order them here:
www.chocolat-tx.us Be warned. You will forever need just one more piece. I am almost certain her secret ingredient is crack.)
Out of the 6ish (or maybe it was 12) books I have finished since my last blog, my absolute favorite has been Chelsea Handler’s, ‘Are you There Vodka, It’s Me Chelsea.’ After reading this book I came to a few realizations: A) My measly use of The F Word has NOTHING on Chelsea. B) Her parents must be SO proud of her. C) I should have found Chelsea eons ago.
Seriously. Scandalous and Hysterical. If I wrote anything similar, I would constantly live in fear of my Father. One would think that bringing home buckets of money would make the content of your best selling book less troublesome… Or surely you’re immune from whippins after the age of 29… But those people do not belong to my family. This would definitely fall into the, ‘My Parents Would (Still) Beat My Ass For That’ category of activities.
(I know of at least one Singer Sister that can relate, and thanks very much for the book recommendation.)
Another notable mention is ‘Sippy Cups Are Not For Chardonnay,’ by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor. Complete opposite ends of the spectrum since she writes about being a new mother and the closest Chelsea Handler will ever get to that is adopting or abducting a little person… But it’s really, really good.
After reading all of these great books I must confess, I have developed a little bit of an inferiority complex… I simply must up the F Bomb content of this blog. I have also come to the realization I must immediately work less, take more vacations, and live a little more vicariously if I want good, scandalous content. And apparently being Jewish is helpful…
On another note, as of today I have made a whopping 11 cents on my blog! Keep clicking those adverts people and we will have us one hell of a lake house! In approximately 400,000 years…
Where does time go? Where have I been for the last 3 weeks, you ask? I have been busy trying to dry out after my pumpkin pie binder. I managed to take down 3 pies in the short 10 days before Thanksgiving… And there may have been a few more pie incidents over the actual Holiday. Which I have since renamed the Sugar Daze.
Since the beginning of November I have been mourning my Holiday weight gain by stuffing my face with chocolates. I also have spent some time reading and trying to convince myself the pain in my knees and hips will get better if I simply jog it out.
(The aforementioned most incredible Chocolates in the entire world can be found in Fredericksburg, Texas at ‘Quintessential Chocolates.’ Or order them here:
www.chocolat-tx.us Be warned. You will forever need just one more piece. I am almost certain her secret ingredient is crack.)
Out of the 6ish (or maybe it was 12) books I have finished since my last blog, my absolute favorite has been Chelsea Handler’s, ‘Are you There Vodka, It’s Me Chelsea.’ After reading this book I came to a few realizations: A) My measly use of The F Word has NOTHING on Chelsea. B) Her parents must be SO proud of her. C) I should have found Chelsea eons ago.
Seriously. Scandalous and Hysterical. If I wrote anything similar, I would constantly live in fear of my Father. One would think that bringing home buckets of money would make the content of your best selling book less troublesome… Or surely you’re immune from whippins after the age of 29… But those people do not belong to my family. This would definitely fall into the, ‘My Parents Would (Still) Beat My Ass For That’ category of activities.
(I know of at least one Singer Sister that can relate, and thanks very much for the book recommendation.)
Another notable mention is ‘Sippy Cups Are Not For Chardonnay,’ by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor. Complete opposite ends of the spectrum since she writes about being a new mother and the closest Chelsea Handler will ever get to that is adopting or abducting a little person… But it’s really, really good.
After reading all of these great books I must confess, I have developed a little bit of an inferiority complex… I simply must up the F Bomb content of this blog. I have also come to the realization I must immediately work less, take more vacations, and live a little more vicariously if I want good, scandalous content. And apparently being Jewish is helpful…
On another note, as of today I have made a whopping 11 cents on my blog! Keep clicking those adverts people and we will have us one hell of a lake house! In approximately 400,000 years…
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