From time to time I go on a clothing spending spree. I know it is a stereotype, but shopping can give this girl a little high. A super soft sweater, pretty shiny earrings and the perfect open toed sandals to show off my not-so-manicured toes can get give me a little high. I try my best to moderate my spending habits, but sometimes a girl has to be a girl. Most of the times it is also the thrill of the hunt. I like getting last year's top seller for 75% off. Knowing me, I will still have it 12 years from now when it comes back in style. So on occasion, I like digging through the bins at Filene's Basement or Marshalls.
This weekend, I went bargain shopping via the Internet. That's what happens when work falls into the category of combing through huge data sets. I just received some interesting results and I have so much data I don't know what to do with it. Literally. I am currently trying to learn how to program in some crappy statistical software caller R, and I admit I hate it. In order to distract myself I perused one of my favorite websites: Bluefly. Yes, the clothes are outdated, but if you know what you are looking for, have a sense of classic pieces, and have an idea what looks good on you it is a place to find deals. Bonus: they were having a extra sale this weekend. I bought myself a T-shirt, a cashmere pullover, and a henna linen sweater for well under $100 (including shipping). And truth be told I am still a little giddy about it.
One weird thing about me is that tags really irritate me. The scratch me in the back of my neck, side, or lower back. Most of it may be psychosomatic. I went to high school in which the majority of the girls had eating disorders. I removed all size labels from my clothing, so the bitchy ones could not make fun of me and my larger friends would never feel bad. But even though I always remove the tags off my clothes I still can tell you from where every piece came. That sweater was a Christmas present, I bought that one from Old Navy, these jeans were from Amazon.
Then I guess it was no surprise, that at lunch we were talking about clothes from the late 80's, I could not help but remember all those outfits too. That would have been my junior high years, when I was considered to be a really snappy dresser. All my tops were over sized, I pegged my pants and I wore suspenders often. I also was really into hats, and I loved how my permed curls would sneak under my felt hat brim and how ironic I was because the whole ensemble was bottomed by my black Converse high tops. Or maybe it was LA Gear, I will have to ask my mother.
But perhaps one of my favorite piece of clothing was the dress I wore to the 6th grade Spring formal. My mother sewed it from a pattern from Butterick's she borrowed from our neighbor. We bought the shiny satin material from the local souk. It was white with green polk-a-dots, with a drop waist, full skirt, puffy sleeves, and a big green bow where the skirt met the waist. Under those UV lights at the dance my dress glowed, as I moshed to Pantera.
I don't know when it happened, when clothes started to matter. I do remember a time when I wore the same purple gauchos 4 days in a row before my mother yelled at me. Perhaps that was more of a hygiene issue....
Well, there was no point to this story except to say, clothes and other sundries put a smile on my face. Yay to American consumerism.
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