continuing stupidity

They're still sending the dress I don't want. ^That^ is not it, by the way. It's similar, but it's not that. If I had ordered ^that^, I'd happily wait for the backorder. ^That^ is hot. But no, the ugly dress that I mistakenly ordered and have tried three times to cancel, is still on its way. In fact, I've gotten two more identical notices that they are very sorry for the delay but not to worry, the merchandise is on its way. I don't want the merchandise. I don't want to ever shop with you bozos again. I want that one hundred dollars to remain in my checking account. Die, little black dress, die.

If I could throw one hundred dollars at something frivolous, at the moment it would be these.

To Whom it May Concern (although I fear the problem springs from no one at all being concerned):

After being informed that a product I ordered was backordered and would not be shipped till sometime next year, I followed the directions in the first backorder notification (snail mail), which said to dial 1-800-SUCKY-CLOTHES to cancel my order. Then I replied to an e-mail to cancel the order, confirming that I would like to cancel, but received a reply that since an invoice had been created, my order could not be canceled. Since it has been further backordered and will not ship for quite some time (per the SECOND written snail mail notification I got today), I do not see why the order can't be cancelled. This is my third request to please CANCEL the order. The order # is ************.

If I receive the product in the mail, which I no longer need nor want, I will have to waste time and postage sending it back, and will promptly write a complaint to the Better Business Bureau regarding this consumer headache.

I have been shopping with stupidclothingcompany.com for about six years, and in this time have purchased thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. I have never been dissatistifed with customer service till this season. I will likely stop shopping online at junkyclothingwarehouse.com after this whole hassle is over and done with.

Sincerely yours,

Disgruntled_Cat

excess?

The henley I have in black, red, purple, white and toffee:

My entire cast of black sweaters:

Red t-shirts:

Red hoodie:

taking inventory

I have to expand the description of my problem. It is an extreme affinity for black sweaters. I love them. Also, I've decided it's no longer a problem. Some people smoke crack; I buy black sweaters. I'm sure every man out there who owns ONE basic jacket and ONE pair of black dress shoes wonders what the &^%# point of having TEN different black sweaters and as many pairs of black dress shoes is. I will tell you: The point is happiness. I can tell the difference between my black sweaters, and this is all that matters. While most serve the same purpose (cover up that skimpy top, eh?) each fits differently and some stand alone - such as #1 and #8 on the following list:

1. Button-down henley (half placket). VS.
2. Silk/cashmere cardigan (not as luxe as it sounds after just a couple of Dryel cycles - that's why I have two). VS.
3. Cinnamon Girl cardigan - stretchy, 3/4-sleeve exact replica of beloved college sweater I stupidly left in a bar one night
4. "Featherweight" henley/hoodie hybrid. VS.
5. Crop cardigan - because sometimes a tank top at work seems wrong. VS.
6. Ribbed kangaroo-pocket pullover. VS.
7. Cable-knit mock turtleneck (honestly this one's a little grandma). VS.
8. Sleeveless ribbed turtleneck. VS.
9. Crop 1-button cardigan (part of a twinset). VS.

Going through the closet I realize that while the bulk of my sweaters are black, I also own:

1. Two red sweaters - see #1 and #4 above, but in red. VS.
2. A toffee version of #1 above. VS.
3. A snow-white version of #1 above. VS.
4. A lingonberry (purple) version of #1 above. VS.
5. A shapeless and too-short ivory v-neck. VS.
6. A shapeless and too-short ivory crewneck. VS.
7. A hot pink version of #9 above (awful, absolutely).VS.
8. A purple version of #8 above - school spirit. VS.
9. A gray scoopneck (a gift). American Eagle Outfitters. Christmas '06.
10. A gray true turtleneck (had it since college). Banana Republic.
11. Maroon silk cardigan. Banana Republic. College staple.
12. Gray cardigan. Express, circa 1999.

There might be more. It's late.

i have the following problem:

an extreme affinity for the basic black cardigan.

Eep.

it's a horrible shoe anyway

L: BCBGirls perforated patent quarter-inch, $89
R: Jessica Simpson perforated patent flat, $69

makes me wish for a real rainy season

Chooka "Wellie": Koi

new bag detail

I LOVE this bag. It's big enough to smuggle papers to grade AND a crapload of candy into a boring meeting. And hella cute!

retiring the label whore

Just for a while.

Me: I am, against my own will, returning this bag.
Juicy man: Why?
Me: I bought it as a gift [for myself] and decided to get [myself] something else.
Juicy man: Would you like to look around the store?
Me: No. But she would. (Points to accomplice)

Actually, though, parting with the messenger was not all that painful. For one thing, October or not, it was just too pink. The black, on the other hand, was beautiful - I felt more pangs not exchanging it for the black than I did returning it. For another, it was just too expensive. I would rather that $300 be a drop in the Silent Truck Fund bucket than hanging from my shoulder. Lastly, it was a pain in the ass to hit myself in the face with the flap every time I needed to get my keys. G'bye.

I did not completely give up my workbag, btw. I found at Macys a cute $60 replacement that is durable, better-designed (for my needs), and island-made. Voila. Pic? I know I took one ...

bye, sniff.

I tried in vain to justify owning a $295 canvas bag: "It's big enough for my laptop." (I don't have a laptop.) "It's big enough to carry my work around in." (I try as hard as I can to never bring my work home.) "It's October pink." (Already grasping at straws.)



So ... adieu, beautiful Juicy messenger. Post my replacement photo as soon as Blogger stops sucking.

pink mood

Soon-to-be-blogged: My own damage on this trip, including side notes on faux and real diamond rings, photos and rationale for the new pink bag, and my fiance's reaction to my plaid headband. I've decided I love the word fiance, by the way.

shine

'Kay, am not (yet) in possession of the Bandolinos (and will likely restrain myself even though the $69 seems paltry in light of other foot-bound purchases) but had to remind myself of this somewhat similar shoe that I love and have worn exactly once:

Just as my classroom is a hybrid of playground and workplace, this is an off-beat Mary Jane-goes-to the-office kind of shoe. As mentioned, it's been taken to the "workplace" exactly once, because its weirdness was too much for the kids.

"Your shoes are so shiny."
"Thank you. Please turn to page 165."
"Are they supposed to be that shiny?"
"They just are. Page 165, please."
"They're reflective."
"I hadn't noticed. Turn to page 165 now."
"My mom has shiny shoes. She doesn't get home from work till really late."

That did it. No more shiny shoes in the classroom. So, still looking for an opportunity (or, preferably, several opportunities) to wear them. In the meantime, I just take them out periodically and smile at my reflection.

a whole new meaning to goody two shoes*

Who does not love Bandolino, a brand that can create a shoe with Plymouth Rock flair and still make me waaaaaaaant it? This is a shoe you can put on your feet.


*You know, The Crucible?

and again i ask you, WHY?

This stupid $475 Taryn Rose pump is called "Fortune." How apropos. I could get the same aesthetic kick (actually a flatline if you ask me) from Payless for a twentieth of the cost.

the '90s were unkind to me ... and so is dan

enough

l-r: VS lace-up espadrilles; Journeys lace-ups; VS wedge/pumps; Steve Madden sandals.

A man saying a woman has enough shoes is like a woman telling a man, "You've watched enough UFC." What, for tonight? For a lifetime? Think of it this way: 1 pair of shoes = 1 "ultimate" fighting match (in which, I might add, men pummel each other senseless by wrapping their legs around each others' heads to create obscene positions and then bashing each other till they bleed out of their ears. This is all followed by the victor parading around a ring wearing a stupid, ugly belt smaller than his ego but still bigger than Texas.)

^Prettier than Joe Scarola. top l-r: VS 4-in pumps; VS 4-3/4 inch stilettos; Aeropostale ballet flats; VS patent pumps. bottom l-r: Payless fake runners; Sugar wedges; VS sandals

i miss your old-fashioned touch

I miss these Callistos. They got left behind somewhere backstage at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco, August 2001. This was the pair that turned me on to heels in the first place ... at first it felt funny finally being eye-level with normal-sized people. But I adjusted, and soon graduated to the realm of 4+ ...

Heel height is like drugs. The more you have, the more you want.

rockin'

A friend and I went to "visit" this ring set today. She told me about it the day before yesterday - all she said was "princess cut" and I was mentally out the door. Anyway, the band is 18K white gold, channel set (halfway, but hey, you can only see the top half anyway) with diamonds. The engagement ring is a 1.08-carat princess cut solitaire with channel-set stones again halfway around. The kicker: it's appraised at $10,500 and selling for cost, $4800.

The seller (the designer? I was not clear) had it on her at a preschool close to my work place. We sat in my friend's car and she came out to show it to us. My friend and I oohed and aahed, but then the seller (my friend's friend) had to rush inside to conduct a fire drill with her little ones. So I got to hold it, wear it, and otherwise fondle it for a good 10 minutes.

I later gushed about it to my mom.

"Why are you showing me?" was her reply.

"Because you might give me five grand?"

Seriously, I'd propose to myself just to have this piece of candy in my life.

P.S. Rouge - almost done.

when it's hard to keep your hands to yourself

Too sweet for words. Zapatos, sorted by color, size, price, brand, and style - with two lovely bonuses: you can redeem your Banana rewards on the site, and shipping is free.


... Yes, I know I said peep-toe was ridiculous and ugly, but this is an objet d'art ... and a great example of apparel that sits better on a shelf than a body. (Can you imagine a foot in that thing?)

Update: The more I look at that shoe, the more I want to imagine my foot in it. Uh-oh.

red

I want to post my Red entry, but I have to harvest pics first. Background: although this time in my life is more of a Pink period (see Picasso's Blue period, subtract about 40,000 units of profundity and significance, and you've got my Pink period), my heart, soul and wannabe-fashionable brain find Red to be the superior hue.

No card reader or Adobe ... grrr.

le rouge

Red cheongsam, 2001.

Red and I, we have a relationship. I love Red. I have had very Red hair, berry Red lips, and now, cherry Red pants. When furnishing my apartment, I almost bought a Red chaise. (They were out of stock.) I long to sport Red nails, but one place Red does not seem to belong is on my hands. I waited a month for a Red car instead of driving an in-stock color off the lot, wear Red shoes against all fashion advice, and I contrive to wear a wedding gown that incorporates Red beadwork into the miles of white taffeta on which I am also going to insist.

"This is red red, and this is orange red.
The wrong one and I will end up looking like a hooker. Or a teacher!"
- Libby, Gilmore Girls

I love Red, but Red does not always love me back. When love is unrequited, only the weak walk away without putting up a fight. Case in point: Red heels from Skechers. If a place is renowned for its quasi-athletic shoe designs, chances are, the cutest-looking party shoes are going to be a little uncomfortable, and possibly a little silly-looking.

I suffer gladly:

Redder than red hair. It cost a lot. I loved it:

Shmaybe ... red lips:

Yes, yes, yes! Red (and some others) jacket, Zhongshan 2001:

The piece de resistance: me new Red pants. Sweetheart cut Old Navys, thoughtfully scooped up by Vickie. I've coveted Red pants since, oh, birth. [Pic to come.]

my loves

My five all-time favorite pieces of clothing:

5) Cinnamon girl black cardigan, c. 2001. Elegant, classic, indestructible. Lost. Irreplaceable.

4) Peasant dress, c. 2000.

Positively medieval. Cream with brown and orange paisley print. Bought it so I could look at it (have not yet invented an occasion to wear it). Caesar's Palace Express, $74.

3) Old Navy Jeans, c. 2002.

Regular blue denim. One orange paint stain on the left knee from grad school art class. Hem chewed up by my puppy.

2) Silk Nina Austin gown, July 2007.

An extravagant birthday gift from my sweetie. Wore it in a fashion show in May and fell deeply in love with it. Cream with brown and black print, subtle beading.

1) White cheong sam, November 2000.

My hand-sewn, hand-embellished stage gown that saw me through Miss Chinatown, Miss Asian America, countless public appearances, dinners, and photoshoots. If I can still get into it, I would love to wear it on my wedding day.

My five all-time favorite pieces of jewelry:

5) Tiffany heart tag toggle necklace, 2004.


4) My navel ring, 1999. So twentieth century, but I'll always love mine. A coworker and I decided to get pierced on rather a whim. For me it was a reward for another semester of ass-kicking hard work. It's the one "subversive" (Mom) piercing I'll never get rid of.

3) Diamond drop necklace, Valentine's Day 2007.

From Maui Divers. They know rocks.

2) Jade bracelet that used to be my mother's.

It cracked in two places when she banged her hand on the table one day, pissed at her students. The two 24K braces holding it together are a visual reminder for me to keep a sense of humor at all times when teaching.

1) My grandmother's engagement ring. Simple platinum setting, round cut solitaire, side stones. I wear it whenever I can but recently my parents made me put it back into the family safe. Boo.

the kickoff

A list of things I can't not buy:

pens - noBo bedsheets from wal*mart - aussie 3 minute miracle and other bath products - travel lit - composition books - cheap jeans - tropical scented dog shampoo - u.s. history books - white elephant book deals - jack russell/pug hybrid puppies ...

A list of things I have difficulty not buying:

jellybeans - high heels - anne tyler novels - sesame street old school - in style magazine - purses - retro shoes like jellies, roos, or mary jane-style skechers - complete season DVD sets of tv series I truly love (there are so precious few) ...

It turns out I'm not a purse or shoe whore. Though I do love me some arm or foot candy, my function standards for purses eliminate most of the cute ones (must have a shoulder strap, secure closure, enough space for a paperback book and a camera; if it's too shmancy to sit on the floor, forget it) - and shoes, well, I love them as much as the next woman but if someone handed me $500 free and clear with only one stipulation - that it must be spent on a single item - let's just say I've never met a pair of shoes that would make the cut.

So I guess this is the blog for my material compulsions, addictions, impulse purchases, deliberations, remorse, and subsequent resolutions and wagon fall-offs (falls-off?). It's the newest addition to the family of blogs that includes the worky/real-lifey blog, the boyfriend blog, and several old cast-off bastard blogs buried somewhere else entirely ... yar.

P.S. I don't make or spend unbelievable piles of money. So posts wistful in nature will greatly outnumber posts reflective/victorious/remorseful in nature.

Coming soon:

- Recent conquests
- Buy me love?
- Happiness is a drugstore
- Just because