Damage Control

December 20th, 2009

My mom and I went to a certain makeup megastore to reup on beauty supplies.  I needed blush, translucent duster, an eyeshadow, and a couple of nail polishes.  Now let’s find out if you do what I do when you buy nail polish, because I think it’s normal but maybe it’s not.

I paint a little stripe of the color on my nail to see if I like it.  There, I said it.

On this certain Sunday, I probably had 10 different colors dabbed on my digits.  An embarrassing scene ensued when the manager asked me what I was doing.  I stated the obvious.  She made a cartoonishly disdainful face; she scooped up her lip until it was just under her eyebrow.

“Well, those aren’t testers. Now I have to damage that out.“

I felt like she’d just caught me letting my dog take a shit in her sandbox.  I mean, she made it seem like I was trying out q-tips and putting them back or something.  These are my fingernails.  They’re dead and clean.  And the brush goes back into paint.  What can live in paint?  I mean, salons use the same nail polish on everyone, and that doesn’t spread disease.

I don’t know, am I in the wrong?  I’ve been doing that for 15 years, and no one has ever said word one about it.  And if I consider that other people have maybe tried the nail polish I buy, it doesn’t bother me, in all honesty.  I mean this is an upper middle class, suburban crowd in the first place, but even if it wasn’t, I’m pretty sure I’m not that fragile.  I think I can fairly easily survive having the same nylon brush coated in formaldehyde and ethyl acetate touch me as touched a potentially dirty stranger.  It’s not like tweaked out truckers and trailer park hookers are coming in there and trying out toothbrushes or something.

On another subject, I’m looking forward to the annual ornament exchange tomorrow.  I haven’t done any holiday baking, but I think I’m going to take a short cut and make boxed cupcakes.  Do you think that makes a good gift?  A box of cake mix and a can of frosting?

Anyway, I’m going to make some red velvet cupcakes.  It calls for white chocolate frosting, but I might be lazy and just use the canned chocolate frosting.  I can still put the peppermint extract and the crushed candy canes.  We’ll see.

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These are My Confessions

December 12th, 2009

I’ve been away a long time, due largely to the fact that I didn’t have internet access at home.  (I know, welcome to the 21st century).  But now I do.

I’ve pretty much abandoned my original purpose for this blog.  I’ve bought clothes (two pairs of jeans, a sweater, a dress, and some tanks and tees), a pair of shoes to replace a staple that was totally broken, which I photographed for this blog early on, and a purse.  I wanted a cross body bag, and I must say, I’m not sorry I bought it.  It’s perfect for hands-free purse access.  When I spell it all out like that, I haven’t gone that far off the wagon, but nonetheless, I certainly didn’t go a year without shopping.

I bought boyfriend jeans and holy cow, I could live in them.  They are so comfy.  It’s so fantastic when something can be fashionable and comfortable.  I even (loosely) tight roll them a la Katie Holmes/6th grade and wear them with both flats and heels.  Worn with just sneakers or something they look sloppy, but I like them with stylish tops, usually loose ones, which seems counter intuitive.  You’d think it’d be loose pants, tight shirt, but not so much.

The other jeans I bought are tight and have some rips and so forth, but they go all the way to the ankle and did not need to be altered, which made them worth what they cost.

I’m not ashamed to say I bought two Miley Cyrus/Max Azria tops at Wal-Mart on Black Friday.  I was there for a different reason, but they were four and seven dollars and are cute.  One of them is a tank top with a big sequined bow on it, and I’ll wear it over a lace top I’ve had forever and never worn.  Nevermind that I have no dressy occasion in the foreseeable future to which I might be going and where such an ensemble would be appropriate.

Actually, I am sort of ashamed.  The whole point of this blog was to be conscious of the fact that when we get clothes that cheap, it means someone is not being paid a living wage for their labor.  But what do I do now?  I’ve already bought them.

I also got an adorable peacock feather printed dress at Forever 21 for just $22 dollars, which is going to be awesome with the purple shoes I already have.  It might even look cute with black tights under it and the high heeled purple sandals.  Again, though, I don’t really have a place or occasion to wear such a thing.  I like new outfits for their own sake.

I find that I like putting together outfits regardless of whether or not I have a place or reason to wear them.  But maybe I should get out more.

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Do the Easy Ones First

October 7th, 2009

Well, so far it’s been only about half a year without shopping.*

*The deal was that I wouldn’t shop for clothes, shoes, or handbags from about the end of April to about the end of April.  Technically, I’ve obeyed the maxim.  I did exercise my replacement clause recently when I purchased a couple of bathing suits.  The two that I have been wearing all summer–one of them is at least six or seven years old, the other about five or so, are on their last legs.   The first one’s elastic has gotten to a point where I fear it will break while I am wearing it, which would spell disaster and possible arrest, since it’s the bottom part that’s in perilous condition.  The other has a bandeau top and the top edge is starting to roll down, which is unsightly and risks exposure.  Not that I haven’t been there before, but it’s no good for actual swimming in the ocean, which is frustrating.  So, because it’s the end of the season and the few stores that still have bathing suits have them super cheap, I went ahead on Mom’s advice and hit up the Dillard’s.  I got two bathing suits for about $50; one of them, I got two different tops for.  The first one was normally $96, and the other would have been about $190 for all three pieces.  I couldn’t see waiting until next year and then getting one suit for twice what I got these two for.  Photos:

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I also have to admit that although I haven’t bought clothes of late, I have still been using shopping as my therapy when I am depressed or cranked up to eleven from my extremely stressful job.  I bought a framed poster and a lamp for my living room, each $20, and orange Buddha head, also for the living room, since I had a sconce thingy with nothing on it.  I must say the lamp was a near necessity, since I only had one source of light in here.  Here’s the stuff:

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I don’t really care about Jimi Hendrix, but it goes with my India flavored living room.  It solved a design problem, allowing me to move what used to hang in that spot into the dining area, which previously had nothing at all on the walls.

That’s the thing I want to say about shopping, and why it works as therapy–it provides a concrete solution to an identifiable problem.  You need skinny jeans to wear with your new plaid shirt?  You want short cowboy boots to wear with your cutoff denim skirt?  Those things can be relatively easily solved, and when you’re finished, you have a small sense of accomplishment and something new to wear that you feel good in.  It’s nothing at all like “Am I in the right line of work?” or “How do I stop loving someone who ins’t available to me?”

If I could solve those problems with my credit card, no matter the price, I’d swipe it and sign.

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Something is Missing

September 2nd, 2009

Don’t you just love the first day of school?  The new school supplies, the excitement of a new schedule, new people, and, of course, new clothes.  When I was a kid, my mom never did a major shop for me to kick off the new school year.  We were broke and upwardly mobile, so a new wardroe bought on credit or with the rent money was out of the question. 

But now that I’m grown and have my own money, I usually do a big shop for clothes, shoes, and handbags twice a year–once in fall and once in spring.  Last year, my fall shop came to about $700 dollars, none of which went on a credit card.  Like I said, I don’t have a shopping problem, per se.  I budget for these things.  This year was different, of course.

This year, the night before the first day of school, I felt a little uneasy, and I couldn’t figure out why.  Something felt absent; out of place.  It dawned on me right around the time I should have been going to bed.  It wasn’t first day anxiety; it was the fact that I hadn’t given a thought to what I would wear.  In past years, I would have been looking forward not only to the new students and the new year, but also to the new outfit I’d planned just for this day.  I stared into the closet.  The same old stuff stared back at me.

By old, I have to admit, for most of this stuff, I only mean a year old.  The chartreuse/mustardy top with the blue flowered embroidery and boatneck collar that I ended up wearing was purchased last year from anthropologie, and in fact, I wore it to school on the first day last year, too.  It was a pretty blah feeling to be sporting the same gear for the same occasion two years in a row.  I tried to come up with some new combinations, but my work wardrobe is not as flexible as my going out or my casual one, and I’ve more or less exhausted all the possibilities already.

People who know me and know about this blog still playfully scrutinize me occasionally and ask if what I’m wearing is new.  I appreciate it, since it shows that they take an interest in me and what I’m doing.  Those are good friends.  Another thing I think it shows is that how we look is important to others, but maybe not as important as we think it is, and that they’re not looking at us thinking that we wear the same thing all the time.  To the people who love us and care about us most, it’s likely that what makes us look fresh is enthusiasm for what we are doing, joy, and the interest we show in them.

I really do want a new handbag, though.  And my workout wardrobe is pretty tired, and since I’m in desperate need of reshaping, that could be a bit of a challenge.  I’m not one of those women who goes to the gym, or even wants to, in full makeup, jewelry, and a coordinated outfit down to the socks.  I don’t go to the gym so I can look good at the gym; I go to the gym so I can look good when I’m not at the gym, i.e., living my life.  Exercise is part of my life, but it’s not a part I feel like I need to dress up for.  I’m there to get sweaty and feel gritty, not to get pretty and feel girly. 

My friend Sarah and I are thinking of training for a half-marathon in January, so I feel motivated to build my stamina on the treadmill.  I love the treadmill; it’s the only time  I watch t.v.  I have to admit, though, I feel a little like a hamster, since I think of it as a cable subscription that only works when I run.  Same $70 a month, waaaaaay better result.

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Can I try this on?

July 6th, 2009

Today I was walking to the grocery store and saw that the signs were out for “Antique Sale Today” at the best little antique mall in town, according to some people who make lists like that. Those signs mean 20% off everything, so I decided to duck in. I have money, time, and no mirror in my bathroom for the past year and a half. I also need a lamp for my living room and a plant, but the plant is a different store, and story, for another day. I saw the perfect lamp about two months ago at Tuesday Morning, but I couldn’t afford it at the time, so I didn’t buy it. I kind of regret that, because even if I had charged it, if it’s in my living room for the next ten years (since it matched perfectly all of my most important furniture), it wouldn’t derail my plan to be out of credit card debt by the deadline I’ve set for myself. Then I’m going to start paying all my bills with one of those cards that gives you money back. I love the amazon.com Visa—you get points that you can spend on anything listed on amazon. That’s all my Christmas shopping for paying my bills. Instead of carrying a checkcard in the front pouch of my purse or the back pocket of my pants, I’ll carry this credit card. Use it the exact same way I would use my checkcard: with a fairly specific running tally in my head and a frugal and careful outlook on the household affairs. Carry a completely different credit card for credit card emergencies, and the same minimal cash as always from the checking account as needed.

But anyway so I was walking to the grocery store and I stopped at the antique mall. You might be thinking that this site is called the year without shopping, and what am I doing shopping? Well the answer to that is on page one, my very first entry ever, where I outline the prohibited items: Clothing, shoes, and handbags. I couldn’t call the site “year without clothes,” because that would bring the wrong audience and they would probably throw rotten vegetables. I hope you don’t feel cheated; I hardly ever go to stores anymore, aside from the grocery, where I go about every two days. As I said, mirror and lamp…

I went for the mirror, sincerely I did, but I didn’t find one and my favorite booth in the place is one that has lots of table linens. I’ve decided to try switching to cloth napkins. Maybe it will be less waste? But there is also the washing of the cloth ones to consider, in that thirsty, shivering machine and it’s blistering counterpart, so I’m going to try it out and see how much extra laundry we make. Obviously I am suggesting that I would reuse the same napkin through several meals, provided it wasn’t heavily soiled. I went through each piece of linen in the booth, and I waffled as I browsed, since I’m going to Ecuador in a week and I can probably buy cool textiles there. But these things were less than eight dollars apiece. Cheap thrill, as it were. One particular booth has beautiful, clean, handmade linens from the, I’d say, ‘40’s on up. I chose two tablecloths that ended up being too small and some cocktail napkins embroidered with martinis. They weren’t expensive and they will make a great little gift for a friend or a hostess gesture. I have someone in mind, so I won’t say more.

Then I glanced my way somewhat hurriedly through the rest, until the next linen booth, and the jewelry, though only very briefly there, since I’d already collected about twenty dollars worth of stuff, two tablecloths and the cocktail napkins. I made for the home stretch; the short path along the back of the store to the long main aisle that leads to the register. Before me, I spied a rack of clothes, and I would normally never look at clothes in an antique mall anyway, but something caught my eye. What’s this? A Nicole Miller dress in a snazzy jacquard fabric? It looks small, too, and I like the colors on all three of them! I look at the price tag. It reads “Nicole Miller Laundry Bag: $12.” “That’s a crazy name for a design,” I think. “It’s hippy though. Tina could fix it. Hm…”

I thought of you, dear readers. I did. And then I looked at the other two, just to see, hypothetically, which one I liked the best. And I thought of where I might try one on. I peeked inside the neck of the dress. It was unlined. At first I thought, okay, maybe this is a design sample or something, and it’s unfinished. I looked at the tag again. It still said laundry bag. I held the dress up and discovered that it was most certainly exactly as stated on the tag. The bottom was sewn together and the sleeves were also. But look at this and tell me you wouldn’t be fooled!

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Then there’s this question: Why the hell would you want a laundry bag that looks like a dress? Can you imagine the questioning glances, the disapproving eyebrow smirks that you will get carrying your laundry in what looks like a second rate cocktail dress?

P.S. The tablecloths were too small, so I gave one to a friend whose birthday it is today and I will take back the other. I may or may not seek a replacement. I also bought 12 simple, matching napkins for 25% off $6, which I feel is an excellent deal. No more paper napkins, which are what, a few bucks each time, so in the amount of time it takes to go through two bags of napkins, these have paid for themselves.

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What I’ve learned so far

May 24th, 2009

So far, I haven’t bought any new clothes, shoes, or handbags in a little over a month.  It hasn’t been that hard, really.  One thing I notice is that it’s kind of freeing to walk into Ross knowing I am only there to look for a mirror for my bathroom and a new cutting board.  It saves me the time of looking through the whole store just in case there’s a really good deal on something I “need”.  Usually, if I go to a store that sells things I like, I look at all of the departments I’m interested in, look carefully through my sizes, and then if I find something I really want I start trying to figure out how to pay for it.  That behavior has been eliminated, and so far I really don’t feel like I am missing anything.

I’ve also paid more attention to the shopping I should be doing, like for other peoples’ birthdays, mother’s day, and for the hostess when I go a wassailing.  Drawing a line in the sand and eliminating buying stuff for myself has freed up some cash flow to buy stuff for other people, and that leaves me with a good feeling.  I got my mom a leather case for her passport (newly minted, go mom) and a book about the sweet shops of Paris, since she has always wanted to go to France and loves chocolate and desserty things.  For my stepdad’s birthday, I got him a travel wallet that is big enough for a passport but not much bigger than a regular wallet. 

When I arrived at my friend’s house last night, I had a bottle of wine in hand for his parents and a 30th birthday gift for him stashed in my duffle bag.  He’s about to start a Real Job, which will require him to go to meetings and take notes and so forth.  In Africa.  So I got him planner and organizer that zips shut and has a little pouch in the front where you can keep pens and hotel keys and passport.  Knowing him, there’ll be cigarettes in there at one time or another.  I’m hoping that once he gets to the point that he can start making suggestions around the place, one of those suggestions will be me.

To that end, I guess I should start working on my Masters.  I’m planning on doing it through USF in International Health or Maternal and Child Health.  I need to take the GRE, and now that I don’t look at the $140 fee as a pair of jeans I’m missing out on, maybe I’ll go ahead and register to take it this summer.  Fortunately for my bank account, extensive preparation is not required.  “Helping” type programs and professions are not usually super picky when it comes to test scores.

“Young lady, if you want to help dig wells in the Congo, you are going to have to study.  You’ll be of no use to the starving millions with those test scores!”

Now if I could just get Mr. Obama to send some of those CRAP funds my way, since my car’s in the shop needing timing chain and clutch plates and $1200 to be sprung loose from there.  Crisis Recovery Action Plan, or something, wasn’t it?

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The First Day of the Rest of this Year

April 20th, 2009

This is the last article of clothing I bought.

This is the last article of clothing I bought.

I wanted to start this blog on Easter, which would have been symbolic, in an ironic way.  Perhaps in a predictive way. 

I tend to procrastinate; I have lots of big ideas, but few of them actually make it into the air, and even fewer of them have actually flown.  To quote Commander Lightyear, it’s more “falling with style.”  Even my best ideas usually find themselves stifled between the pages of this notebook or that journal or soaked under a cold drink on one of the business reply envelopes a good friend taught me to see as free scrap paper.  So I am just getting around to what really should have been done a week ago.   Typical!

What I am doing here is part experiment, maybe part statement, all hopeful ambition, and may evolve (devolve?) into performance art. 

What will it be like to go a whole year, 365 days starting now, without buying clothes for myself? 

I don’t have a “problem” with shopping.  I have less than $1500 in credit card debt, I own my home, my car is paid off, I have a chunk of money in a retirement account, and money in savings.  In fact, I love clothes, if not always shopping itself, and I read fashion mags and know the season’s dos and don’ts.

So why do it?  All I’m going to do is drive myself crazy, right?  Maybe.                    

Do you know what happens to the clothes we middle classers cast off?  First of all, only a small percent of the clothes we give away in this country are actually worn out.  I’d guess that’s equally true in other developed countries with substantial middle classes.  Those clothes make their way down through the ranks, out through the hind end of Goodwill and the Salvation Army and eventually into giant bales of aid sent to Africa.  What it does there is depress the value of cotton, and render farming textile crops or weaving fabric exercises in humility and futility.  It takes away the potential livelihoods of those people who would be traditionally occupied as dressmakers and shopkeepers.  It allows land to go uncultivated in the most rapidly spreading patch of desert in the world.

On the other end of its production, it employs women in Asia at slave wages, and keeps children from school to do piecework for a pittance.  Some clothing manufacturers foul the environment around them, (in addition to their workers) with dyes and solvents while they’re making our clothes out of plastic.  These companies have moved to cities we don’t know how to pronounce in countries we know from National Geographic because there are few regulations, the labor is cheap and disorganized, and do they really need another reason?

So there’s that, but really, I just want to know if I can do it.  Any woman who enjoys getting dressed would find it a struggle.  I wonder how I’ll feel when I really want something different to wear.  I wonder if I’ll have ideas about different things, or what I will do with the energy and time I currently spend reading about, looking at, and thinking about clothes.  That’s what I want to write about.  I wonder how creative I will get as I try to adapt to stay current, if that will carry over into other parts of my life.  I wonder how out of style I will look and feel in a year, and what I might learn about myself.

I’ll post pictures everyday, so that there will be a record of what a whole year with no new clothes looks like.

Next:  What are the rules?

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