A Little Game I Like To Call....Need Justification

The seasons are changing, which means.....it's time for a new wardrobe. A Fall wardrobe full of scarves, jackets, jeans, and boots. Lots of boots. In fact, I've developed a little boot-buying addiction, four pairs in the past month. As Carrie Bradshaw said..."this is the shopping equivalent of a lobotomy."

But look how pretty.......

First up, Steve Madden. Now I bought flat tan boots last Fall and they were perfect and comfortable and lovely....and then I lost them in the tragic marshmallow incident of Boonsville 09. Needless to say, I was disappointed that I had to lay my now sticky Gianni Bini boots to rest, but once I saw these....I was able to justify my need for NEW flat boots.Next, more Steve Madden. I don't really even like Steve Madden shoes....for one thing they are terribly uncomfortable, but these were the perfect shade of grey, had a decent size heel and were both suede and slouchy....thus, they were calling my name. My reasoning behind needing these boots was this...I need heeled black boots for work, except that there seems to be some stigma behind black boots with heels. People see them and think Pretty Woman hiding condoms in her patent leather boots that she colors in with a magic marker before hitting the streets every night. GREY boots however have no such hooker stigma and can be worn with black attire. Need justified.I thought I was done. I had two new pairs of shoes, both purchased within weeks of my birthday, so technically they were like presents. But as seems to be my current shopping motto, why stop there?

Hence, my shopping trip this past Saturday and the purchase of the most coveted boots of all time. I have been cyber stalking these boots every day for the past week and am certain that even I am not cool enough to pull them off. Justification? I can wear them with jeans, unlike the tall grey boots, and they practically scream CARRIE BRADSHAW at me...therefore I must have them. Behold, my Mia studded booties.

After spotting the Carrie booties that I surely cannot make cool, I turned around and saw out of the corner of my eye....the perfect tan boot with a very large heel. Now I know what you're thinking, I already purchased tan flat boots so why do I need more boots in the same color? Well...the slouchy flat Steve Madden boots just don't go with everything and if I had tan heeled boots also, I could wear them to work with the things that the other pair don't go with. And so, with my need justified, I became the new owner of the below Jessica Simpson boots. Believe what you hear about JS shoes - they are unbelievably uncomfortable and totally ridiculous but...sometimes, it's worth it. 5 inch heel? Completely practical for the workplace.

Feeling completely successful and nonremorseful with my boot purchases this season, I realized that I was missing something. A purse. Where is my new Fall purse? The one I so badly wanted was a fabulous Marc Jacobs....but unfortunately, my employer does not carry any MJ and therefore, I cannot afford said dream purse due to no discount. So I fell back on old reliable....Coach. The large Brooke bag in eggplant is yummy with its gold hardware and lavender liner. Mmmmm...and with a hefty discount, my need = justified.Now, are you noticing a theme here? How does one make a wardrobe that consists solely of boots and a bag work? As Miranda would say..."the emperor has no clothes people!" But since my credit card is tapped out this month, the scarves and jackets and jeans will just have to wait. Until then, I will be recycling last Fall's clothes to pair with this Fall's boots...now that's rough people.

I know what you're thinking....I am completely ridiculous and spoiled and bad at budgeting. Why, yes I am. Thanks for noticing.

"The Time Has Come..."

Is it a coincidence that the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale is running the very same week as MY birthday? I think not... It's all part of their master plan you see. I'm trying to save my hard-earned money so that I can quit my job and do something fabulous with my life, and Nordstrom...with whom I have a love/hate relationship....is seducing me into buying three pairs of boots that I don't need.

Need has never really been an issue for me though. I always seem to skip right past that and go straight to WANT. I apparently need food in my fridge and gas in my car...yet I seem to think I can live without those things. Who needs food when you could have those tan wedge-heeled button-up boots? I can surely live off of ramen noodles and lean cuisines if my feet are happy right? They say "pain for beauty" but I think it's more like "hunger for shopping." The gas in the car thing is a litte more difficult though because I guarentee you these boots aren't comfortable and I will not be walking anywhere. There is something seriously wrong with me and working in this industry has only made it worse.

My plan, of course, is to find a NEW job. I don't know where or what or with whom...but this will be happening soon. Or as soon as I can get off my lazy behind and do some real searching. I'm lacking a little follow-through at the moment but I'm getting there. I think those boots just might be my motivation...or my downfall.

Les Charmes de Petit Rocher

For those of you who don't know, I have been a travelling fool lately. But this weekend, I decided to go against the grain and keep my butt in Little Rock which resulted in a fabulous time...and I started to wonder...why do I leave town every weekend? Now I never thought I would live in Little Rock and I still don't claim to live in Arkansas but truth be told...it has certain charms. Charms you ask? Why, yes...

1. The summer weather was finally here on Friday so I decided to hit the favorite bar and sit on the patio with Betsy, Sara, Candice and Lucy. After a couple glasses of wine, it became evident that we were tipsy, starving, and too lazy to do anything about it. Now what do resourceful women do in a situation like that? Order pizza and have it delivered to the bar! You can actually do things like that here...

2. Somehow the evening ended with a stop at the new gay bar. Now we like to go to gay bars because you are less likely to have to dodge some drunk frat guy's awful pick-up lines and it's fun to people watch. We made friends with a group of French men who let us mangle their language in the spirit of practice and since most French men seem gay to begin with - we didn't even question their sexuality or their interest in us or our cell phones. That's until we realized that they had programmed their numbers into our cell phones which is a supreme violation. "Why did you go to a gay bar to pick up women?" I asked my new stalker. I was answered with "What's a gay bar?"

3. All I wanted to do on Saturday afternoon was lay on my couch and watch the Real Housewives of New Jersey marathon....seriously. Instead, I went to help my friend situate in her newly purchased house. Somehow we ended up in a deep discussion centering around reincarnation. Basically it was more like "Where do these crazy Arkansas people come from...they must have had a really interesting past life."
Cristen: "I think I was an orphaned nun in my past life."
Me: "I think I was a gay man."

4. Did someone say block party? I did! Chris, Moona and I loaded into Chris's jeep on Saturday evening and road tripped it to Austin, AR for Jennifer and Matt's block partay. Now I know what you're thinking. Is Austin, AR anything like Austin, TX? Take Austin, TX and remove all restaurants, bars, stores, any form of entertainment and about 750,000 people and then you would have Austin, AR. Anyway...the block party consisted of a terrible cover band called "Numbers Pulled" that played a revolving door of Prince, Stone Temple Pilots, and Eagles as well as some of their amazingly bad original songs. When they busted into "Heartbreak Hotel" - I almost threw my chair at the stage. Oh wait, did I say stage? They were actually playing inside someone's garage. Besides "Numbers Pulled" - the party was a hodge-podge of 40 year olds taking Jager shots, trying to dance, playing beer pong and large women wearing bikini tops and jean shorts (a deadly combination).

5. No weekend is complete without a Sunday morning trip to Waffle House. Luckily, there's one on every corner of Little Rock so I will never be without smothered, covered and peppered hashbrowns.

Are you now envious of my glamorous life in Little Rock? I thought so!

Prepare yourself for some bitching...

Today was a bad bad bad day. I've been sitting here thinking of everything I would like to say to the men that I work with and finally decided to put it in writing. So, men that I work with who do not read this blog, these are my hardships of climbing the corporate ladder and dealing with YOU....

1. Harnessing the male ego. Yes, I am a 23 year old woman working with and for middle aged men and yes, I suppose you men should be proud of your place in the world....but we're not curing cancer here, we're just selling pants...to people who don't even need pants. This, however, does not seem to matter since EVERY man I deal with on a daily basis has an ego proportionate to the size of his paycheck. I don't care that your college roommate was the CEO's son...call me "dear" one more time and I will remove the anatomy that makes you think you can talk to me like that. I understand that the male ego comes from your feelings of inadequacy in your marriage, your body type, your hairline, etc but no, I'm not your "dear" and no, I don't think it's funny when you try to make people cry....and NO, I am not turned on by the power you wield over the world of men's sportswear.

2. Avoiding sexual harassment. Yes, I am a 23 year old woman working with and for middle aged men and yes, I wear skirts and heels and have hair, etc. but I don't need you to tell me that I have beautiful eyes and I don't need you to say "meow" when I walk past you (I'm not kidding) and I definitely don't need a married VP telling my co-workers that he likes the way I walk. I get that we don't have a human resources department so I can't actually do anything about this but....you're all married and old and bald and gross so grow up and leave the girls alone.

3. Dealing with screw-ups. Yes, I am a 23 year old woman working with and for middle aged men and yes, I realize that men delusionally think that they're always right. I understand that in your mind, when you screw up, it's actually my fault and when I screw up, it's always my fault. Guess what? In my mind, when you screw up, it's your fault, and when I screw up, it's because you gave me the wrong information. It's not my fault that my note said "the signs will be there" and you changed it to "the signs will be their" - that's your fault. And for that matter, what business do you have being in charge of anything if you can't use the correct form of "there" or "your"? It's also not my fault that you can't tell a pinpoint oxford from a poplin....please tell me again that you'll "show me what an oxford actually looks like" - I'm the one with a concentration in Textile Science....I'll show YOU what an oxford looks like punk.

Wow that felt good....one day when I'm the VP (or just P) of something, I will rule by intimidation, place blame on everyone but myself and sexually harass my male employees. Or maybe...I'll go against the grain and treat people with actual respect.

Genius in Red Cowboy Boots

2 questions....

1. Why is Quentin Tarrantino giving people singing advice on American Idol?
2. Does anyone know the exciting thing about mid-April?

I can't answer the first question....but the second one, I can take a crack at. Mid-April means it's time for trend forecasts. FALL trend forecasts! We get to find out what's in for Fall 2009 and we get to plan our wardrobes accordingly. Obviously, no one who reads this actually does that...except for me of course. And guess what I just found out....

Cowboy boots are back! That's right, cowboy boots. And not just everyday cowboy boots, but colorful cowboy boots. Do you see where I'm going here? I owned a pair of red cowboy boots when I was 4 years old....red cowboy boots that I mulled over and cried about (I was an indecisive shopper even at that age) until my grandfather finally bought them for me and obviously, I was almost 20 years ahead of my time.

You know what this means? Trust your children and their crazy outfit choices because they might just be fashion geniuses. If they want to wear their black and white striped prison outfit with red cowboy boots, tell them they look fabulous and send them on their way. Who knows...20 years down the line, they might just be sitting pretty in a corner office with a window view of the capitol telling other people how to dress for a living. And yes, I'm bragging.

Minor Request

Ok American Idol contestants, I have one minor request. Please please please do not sing Patsy Cline. There are so many songs out there for you to butcher, why must you choose my favorite song of all time and turn it into a karaoke performance full of cracked vocals and awkward dancing? "Walkin' After Midnight" should only be sung by Patsy Cline...or by me...while standing on the vacuum cleaner and singing into the handle.

And please hire a better stylist...it's 80 degrees in CA and the singers are wearing puffy jackets, hoody sweatshirts and tons of layers. Maybe the layers plus the lights are making these poor people so sweaty and anxious that they burst spontaneously into a Patsy Cline rendition that is not only painful, but uncomplimentary to her memory. Hands off bitches....go sing some Carrie Underwood.

Fancy Pants

Why do we feel the need to buy new clothes for special events? This was a topic of discussion this week because Betsy's wedding was on Saturday night and no one but Betsy herself and her lovely bridesmaids actually knew what they were going to wear. Every lunch conversation centered around silhouettes, fabric, shoes and purses....which is honestly like any other day...minus the boy talk. I actually bought 2 dresses for the event and then decided against both of them and borrowed a dress from a friend. So why all the drama for one night?

I propose that memories are tied up in the clothes we wear. I could have worn any of the 25 cocktail dresses in my closet but those all have their own memories attached to them. Creating new memories in a brand new fancy dress just seems more fun; it's like a clean slate with no overlapping of the past. It's fun to look through my closet as a sort of photo album and remember that my green dress was for Cody and Laura's cocktail party and my purple dress was for Paul and Katie's wedding....unfortunately for this event, I won't be able to look back on my dress since I borrowed it from my very pregnant friend. The sad thing about this is that I think it's my most favorite dress I've ever worn because... 1.) it was adorable and 2.) it was such a fun night.


But at least we have pictures..........


Behold my new favorite dress. And no...I am not commenting on the boy in the picture BUT if anyone can tell me where they've seen him before, I will give you a cookie because it's a very funny story.

The bride looked gorgeous and I loved her dress almost as much as mine...

I would personally like to know who invented bridesmaids dresses, why they did so, and what made them think that yellow and polyester made a good combination.

Finally, we all know that the only good thing about a wedding is the open bar...which we indulged in...alot.

Fun times in fun clothes....that's the only way to live.

How to Dress Like a Bachelorette

I just got back from Nashville where I attended Betsy's bachelorette party. It was tons of fun, totally inappropriate, and at times, a little hazy. The pictures are hilarious so I thought I would share.

Every good bachelorette party includes humiliating attire for the bride-to-be...Betsy had a sash of some sort, a veil with flashing penises and a headband with glittery gold penises. The bride is then aloud to wear something slutty to offset the ridiculous outfit.

Now the actual attendees of the bachelorette party can wear whatever they want. We chose sleeveless dresses even though it was 25 degrees and snowing. We had priorities people and free drinks were number one. And yes those are penis straws.

We did brings jackets with us...as you can see here while we pose with the fake Elvis who looked a little like the King crossed with Bob Barker. The Elvis statue then fell on top of us...all the while it was still snowing and still 25 degrees.

This is where we run into a bachelor party from Atlanta. Notice that the groom-to-be (the one smiling) is not forced to wear anything embarrassing...or stupid...or disgusting. These particular gentlemen were wearing cowboy hats which we promptly stole and as you see below, made our own.

In true fashion, the party ended with Betsy passing out on the bar, all of us getting kicked out of the establishment, Betsy throwing up in the Doubletree parking lot and the security guard dragging her upstairs to her room. At least she looked cute doing it!

Leave My Shoes A Message

I am officially ready for Spring. Why, you ask? Because....

I want to wear my new shoes dammit!! Now usually when I buy shoes, I think about the outfits I already own that I could possibly wear said shoes with. This time however, I bought the shoes and then...a new wardrobe that could coordinate with them. I believe that these Gianni Bini 4 1/2 inch heels will be incredibly painful...but I will cherish them nonetheless because every time I look down at my feet I will be happy.

As Carrie Bradshaw says.... "The fact is, sometimes it's hard to walk in a single woman's shoes. That's why we need really special ones now and then to make the walk a little more fun."

I don't necessarily think it's hard to walk in a single woman's shoes...I know that I definitely have more fun than any of my married friends and as a bonus, I don't have some man questioning my exorbitant purchases. I post this quote only because it justifies my spending.

Anyway...due to my shopping priorities, I have realized that shoes are more important to me than the clothes I wear. I have also realized that by the time I'm 40, I probably won't be able to use my feet.

Quantitative Method for Cleansing the Closet

Well I did some shopping last weekend and then came home to realize that there was no more physical space available in my closet. So this morning I did a little purging which I found to be a very difficult process. How do you know what to hold on to and what to get rid of? What if one day I really need that dress I bought for $10 at a NY street fair and then I can't find it because I donated it to the Salvation Army? Throwing away (or donating) my clothes is very hard for me. I can look at every item in my closet and remember when I bought it, why I bought it and what significant event I wore it to. That's the point of clothes right? Well besides the whole warmth/modesty/protection thing. Therefore I had to develop a quantitative method for cleaning out my closet. I chose to ask myself three questions in order to decide if I could actually get rid of something...

1. How many times have I worn this?
2. When was the last time I wore it?
3. In what instance would I wear this again?

For example....I found a black dress hanging at the very back of my closet. It qualified as cute and you can never have too many black dresses but I decided to use my method. The answers to my 3 questions were as follows:

1. Once...that I know of.
2. Homecoming, 10th grade. (That was 8 years ago.)
3. In all likelihood, I have grown since the 10th grade and would not fit in the dress. Also, as much as dress-makers enjoy polyester, the smell of it makes me gag.
Therefore the dress ends up in the donate pile that Doris was kind enough to guard for me.

In typical male fashion, Steve was extremely bored with the cleansing process and chose to sleep his way through it. Anyway, it took two hours and alot of deep thought but I managed to clear enough space for the new stuff. I only filled one trash bag with clothes but I guess that's better than nothing. I have decided to keep that trash bag under my bed and if within the next month I find myself searching for something that I had decided to donate, I will hang it back in the closet. Yes, it's stupid for clothes to be so important but honestly, I'm a materialistic 23 year old girl who works in the fashion industry and talks to her cats....clothes are my comfort.

This picture has nothing to do with my closet but aren't they cute???