Retail Therapy Overload
Written Tuesday, February 23rd.
Neither I nor my family has ever been particularly big on New Year's Resolutions so I was surprised to realize I had made one a couple weeks into January. Since I tend to get a little reclusive and stuck in my ways, I resolved every month to do either something new that stretched my comfort zone or do something I used to do but haven't in a long time.
I thought I had missed my chance for February when I didn't get tickets to the Condaleeza Rice visit to my college, but I realized that this past Saturday offered a second chance. A consignment shop bus tour is definitely not on the same par as a free in-person speech by a former lady Secretary of State, but I didn't know where to address an invitation to her to accompany us.
I signed up for the bus tour back in January when Lady Bleu and I visited the nearby consignment shop on lunch. It sounded like fun. I could visit some consignment shops around town I'd been meaning to see and maybe knock a few items off my needed clothing list. It was a spark of defiance as well. I knew I probably shouldn't sign up and would probably need that weekend for wedding planning so I went ahead with it anyway.
On Friday I received the informational e-mail, and the panic of driving somewhere new hit me. When I had first signed up, I had assumed we would meet at one of the two consignment shops nearby that I knew, but we were starting from a consignment shop I'd never heard of about ten miles down the Interstate. Grimly, I looked up directions to the store from my apartment, wrote down the phone number in case I got lost, and even found a picture of what the store looked like on the website. It was lucky I did because even though it was simple to find, I wouldn't have looked at it in the shopping center the first time around because I thought it was farther down.
Safely arrived, I congratulated myself that at 8:34, I was almost fifteen minutes early. More time for shopping! I knew I would need it in a consignment shop I'd never visited. And boy, what a lovely shop! I had dressed carefully that morning in jeans, brown cami, my pink corduroy jacket, and teal chiffon dupatta (Indian shawl) so that I would look casual and comfortable enough for shopping but still nicely dressed for the other fashion divas I assumed would throng the bus. I also wanted to be warm without lugging around a big coat and have an easy time stripping and trying on clothes. I dressed a little too carefully because my name tag wouldn't stick to my jacket or my jeans, but it didn't slow me down too much.
That shop had the most wonderful selection of jackets! I wanted to cry because I found a gorgeous teal velvet jacket, and it was just a teensy bit too small. Argh. But I did find a brocade jacket that I liked very much and wound up buying. The store gradually filled with other ladies, but I was smart and quickly collected a big handful of hangers of clothes to try on before the three dressing cubicles filled up. I don't know if I just don't have a good eye for hanger appearance vs. me appearance or if I just like to indulge my curiosity and try on anything that looks interesting and might fit, but I always have to try on 10-20 things to find just one or two that work. It doesn't particularly bother me. I just used either the communal dressing area the shop ladies set up in their backrooms to accommodate the overflow or pestered one or two other ladies in the long line to share a dressing room with me since I had so much to try on.
Pretty much everyone had a buddy or two she already knew, and since I made every minute count before leaving the store, I had to claim a seat in the back of the bus. I made acquaintance with the ladies sitting in front of me so that they would make sure I was behind them before the bus left any one of the six consignment shops. We all complimented each other on earrings and aqua-tunic-paired-with-chocolate-brown and such, and we showed each other our finds on the bus after each stop. I was surprised and amused that I was better dressed than many of the ladies and one of them said I wasn't casually dressed at all with my jacket and shawl.
Most of the ladies were significantly older than I, but there was one girl with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing a quilted, vintage royal blue and white jacket that I envied whom I skirted despite the age similarity. It's so weird how high school stereotypes can sneak up on us. I don't care to let high school rule the rest of my life the way some people do, but sometimes those insecurities about clothing, appearance, and un-coolness pounce on me. I just automatically assume that I'm untidy and a notch below what everyone else is wearing, and it doesn't help that I scorn make-up, shaving, and a more conventional hairstyle. This particular girl wound up initiating conversation with me while we were all sitting around in the expensive furniture consignment shop, a bit cranky from the fatiguing day but impatient to move to the last, more interesting shop. Everyone was very keen to hear me describe my wedding plans, and it turned out this girl had just gotten married herself and moved to my hometown same as I plan to do. Except she's living in one of the rich people areas. Sniff. I couldn't remember the name of the area where J. lives and instead confused everybody by explaining it's where all the mill houses were built in the 1950s or something like that, but I tried not to let any crankiness from hunger and waiting around bleed through. Or my envy of her jacket.
I won't list every item I bought here save that it was a lot. I did get items on my needed clothing list including not one but two pairs of work pants as well as some work-appropriate tops. I got a nice discount on two pairs of earrings, one of which I'd been eyeing since January when I signed up for the tour, and I got, oh, I guess three things for fun. Ok, the first one is fun. It's a dark chocolate brown, satiny skirt with a scalloped hem, a short slit, and a heavy crust of copper and gold beads around the bottom foot-and-a-half. I tried it on for fun because I just knew something form-fitting around the hips would make me look bulgy, but once the fabric settled into place, it...didn't. Oh, it clings all right, and I'll have to inspect for VPLs very closely, but it was actually quite lovely. As soon as I figure out a top and shoes, I announced to J., he is going to take me somewhere fancy in it. Maybe that will be my resolution fulfillment for another month: dress up fancy for dinner and a show, something I rather wish I did more of but hardly ever do.
The second for-fun item is still mortifying. I keep trying to phrase it in terms of cheerful experimentation. There were two crazy pairs of pants at the second consignment shop, one a pale yellow brocade sprigged with more yellow and blue flowers and the other this crazy, crazy pair that combines prints of roses, toile, and leopard print in a crazy mix of reds, golds, and dark greens. The brocade seemed a little dingy and worn, but the second, well, the second I think are booty pants. At this particular tiny shop, the dressing rooms were full and there was no mirror in the back room where I changed so I had to keep running through the shop to the tri-fold mirror to check the fit. It seemed like nearly a dozen of these conservative women who liked to dress in black-and-white or just one or two wild accessories with conventional neutrals, nearly a dozen of them urged me to buy the pants. Just wear it with a solid-colored top, they told me. Any color will match. The lady changing in the backroom with me pressed me particularly hard. And, well, I'm still scared of the pants, but because of their encouragement and the dual winter sale and coupon discounts and in the spirit of trying it to see if it will work for the sake of a few dollars, well, I'll try them.
The third thing is actually just as daring for me even if not outwardly so. At the last shop, I had spotted a beautiful, Empire-waist dress in pale orange with silver, lime, and ice blue stylized butterflies on it hanging on the wall. The bodice is ruched, the straps thin, and a satiny soft, dark chocolate and lime sash tie under the bust and in the back. It was also short, only about mid-thigh. I saw it when I walked in but shrugged past it, but I studied it more closely while I checked out with some blouses. Could I try it? I found myself asking the salesladies.
Sure! they said. They didn't think it would be odd at all. One grabbed her hook and gently tugged it off the wall for me. We had some extra time and some ladies were still lingering in the shop, and one of the coordinators promised to wait while I tried it on "right quick." She had found a gorgeous, long brocade jacket that I greatly envied, and we seemed to have a similar style, preferring to layer chiffon tops on top of camis. Both she and the New York consignment shop owner agreed that the dress suited me.
I tried it on, and I wasn't completely sure. Would anyone think I was weird if I preferred to wear the dress with brown leggings? It's short enough to pass as tunic-length even though it is undeniably a dress. No one I suggested it to thought it was odd at all and actually approved my choice. I'm a little concerned that the ruched bodice doesn't fit exactly right and makes me a little bustier than even a ruched bodice is intended to do, but most ladies would consider this a good problem.
So I have my three more daring pieces plus my pants and tops and a bit of jewelry. To my surprise, I also found myself giving advice to about three ladies, and they listened seriously to it and even thanked me. A couple were just assurances that rustic white goes with just about any color and the location of my favorite (and not quite so boutique-y and pricey) furniture consignment shop. But I also gave an idea to the New York consignment shop owner and the leader of the bus tour/owner of two consignment shops herself. Both had pear shapes under long tops that needed a little more definition and a little shortening, and I recommended using a scarf or belt under the bust to create an Empire waist. It may or may not work, but they considered the idea seriously and will probably try it out.
In all, I held my own pretty well. I dressed fairly well for the trip, I didn't have any disasters finding the first consignment shop, and I stuck mostly to my list of needed clothing despite the charged, spend-free atmosphere. Even for the items that weren't strictly on my list like the fancy skirt and the pale orange dress, I already know when I want to wear them and that they'll come in handy for upcoming wedding events. I did break the rule of not having something that already goes with them (shoes, leggings for the dress, a top for the skirt), but what I need for them will fit into my overall wardrobe. The crazy pants will be an experiment, and the other tops and pants already fit into my preferred colors and style and thus need no extra items like the first two. My veggie wrap for lunch--boy, I'm glad I called and asked 'cause the default was chicken salad--was absolutely delicious. I found the two items I most wanted to find--a brocade jacket and at least one pair of work pants--and I even gave some fashion advice to two uber-fashion-capable ladies.
My Lenten resolution was sorely tested, but I managed to hold true. Despite the delicious wrap and my breakfast, neither held me for very long, and shopping made me hungry. Every shop set out nibbles for us for that purpose, but unfortunately, they were all sweets: muffins, doughnut holes, King cake, fancy chocolate cake from a local bakery, and cookies. I pretty much pounced on the grape and cheese tray at the last shop and was so excited when the saleslady told me the pretzels were yogurt-covered instead of white chocolate-covered. I can't tell the difference, and if it turns out it was white chocolate after all, well, it wasn't my fault because I did my best not to break my fast to the best of my knowledge and efforts.
In all, it was a very successful comfort zone stretch. I think Lady Bleu might not be ashamed to call me her fashion student, eh? Regardless, I'm pleased with myself. I undoubtedly made some mistakes--oops, did I not notice in the dressing room that the sleeves of this shirt are just a teensy bit too short?--but it is extremely difficult to obtain a perfect wardrobe. I even won a bottle of hair thickening shampoo from the last store. 'Cause we all know I need some, right?
Epilogue
I don't think I ever shopped so many hours in a day in my life. I hadn't been home long straightening up when J. arrived and took me out to look at tuxedos and sheets. He finally ordered the queen bed, and it was delivered Saturday. However, we have only twin and double sheets between us, and he's not keen to sleep on the couch for several more weeks waiting for someone to give us queen sheets. I used one of our department store gift cards to pick out some pretty Biltmore damask sheets the same shade of blue as his eyes. On sale. Smirk.
Neither I nor my family has ever been particularly big on New Year's Resolutions so I was surprised to realize I had made one a couple weeks into January. Since I tend to get a little reclusive and stuck in my ways, I resolved every month to do either something new that stretched my comfort zone or do something I used to do but haven't in a long time.
I thought I had missed my chance for February when I didn't get tickets to the Condaleeza Rice visit to my college, but I realized that this past Saturday offered a second chance. A consignment shop bus tour is definitely not on the same par as a free in-person speech by a former lady Secretary of State, but I didn't know where to address an invitation to her to accompany us.
I signed up for the bus tour back in January when Lady Bleu and I visited the nearby consignment shop on lunch. It sounded like fun. I could visit some consignment shops around town I'd been meaning to see and maybe knock a few items off my needed clothing list. It was a spark of defiance as well. I knew I probably shouldn't sign up and would probably need that weekend for wedding planning so I went ahead with it anyway.
On Friday I received the informational e-mail, and the panic of driving somewhere new hit me. When I had first signed up, I had assumed we would meet at one of the two consignment shops nearby that I knew, but we were starting from a consignment shop I'd never heard of about ten miles down the Interstate. Grimly, I looked up directions to the store from my apartment, wrote down the phone number in case I got lost, and even found a picture of what the store looked like on the website. It was lucky I did because even though it was simple to find, I wouldn't have looked at it in the shopping center the first time around because I thought it was farther down.
Safely arrived, I congratulated myself that at 8:34, I was almost fifteen minutes early. More time for shopping! I knew I would need it in a consignment shop I'd never visited. And boy, what a lovely shop! I had dressed carefully that morning in jeans, brown cami, my pink corduroy jacket, and teal chiffon dupatta (Indian shawl) so that I would look casual and comfortable enough for shopping but still nicely dressed for the other fashion divas I assumed would throng the bus. I also wanted to be warm without lugging around a big coat and have an easy time stripping and trying on clothes. I dressed a little too carefully because my name tag wouldn't stick to my jacket or my jeans, but it didn't slow me down too much.
That shop had the most wonderful selection of jackets! I wanted to cry because I found a gorgeous teal velvet jacket, and it was just a teensy bit too small. Argh. But I did find a brocade jacket that I liked very much and wound up buying. The store gradually filled with other ladies, but I was smart and quickly collected a big handful of hangers of clothes to try on before the three dressing cubicles filled up. I don't know if I just don't have a good eye for hanger appearance vs. me appearance or if I just like to indulge my curiosity and try on anything that looks interesting and might fit, but I always have to try on 10-20 things to find just one or two that work. It doesn't particularly bother me. I just used either the communal dressing area the shop ladies set up in their backrooms to accommodate the overflow or pestered one or two other ladies in the long line to share a dressing room with me since I had so much to try on.
Pretty much everyone had a buddy or two she already knew, and since I made every minute count before leaving the store, I had to claim a seat in the back of the bus. I made acquaintance with the ladies sitting in front of me so that they would make sure I was behind them before the bus left any one of the six consignment shops. We all complimented each other on earrings and aqua-tunic-paired-with-chocolate-brown and such, and we showed each other our finds on the bus after each stop. I was surprised and amused that I was better dressed than many of the ladies and one of them said I wasn't casually dressed at all with my jacket and shawl.
Most of the ladies were significantly older than I, but there was one girl with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing a quilted, vintage royal blue and white jacket that I envied whom I skirted despite the age similarity. It's so weird how high school stereotypes can sneak up on us. I don't care to let high school rule the rest of my life the way some people do, but sometimes those insecurities about clothing, appearance, and un-coolness pounce on me. I just automatically assume that I'm untidy and a notch below what everyone else is wearing, and it doesn't help that I scorn make-up, shaving, and a more conventional hairstyle. This particular girl wound up initiating conversation with me while we were all sitting around in the expensive furniture consignment shop, a bit cranky from the fatiguing day but impatient to move to the last, more interesting shop. Everyone was very keen to hear me describe my wedding plans, and it turned out this girl had just gotten married herself and moved to my hometown same as I plan to do. Except she's living in one of the rich people areas. Sniff. I couldn't remember the name of the area where J. lives and instead confused everybody by explaining it's where all the mill houses were built in the 1950s or something like that, but I tried not to let any crankiness from hunger and waiting around bleed through. Or my envy of her jacket.
I won't list every item I bought here save that it was a lot. I did get items on my needed clothing list including not one but two pairs of work pants as well as some work-appropriate tops. I got a nice discount on two pairs of earrings, one of which I'd been eyeing since January when I signed up for the tour, and I got, oh, I guess three things for fun. Ok, the first one is fun. It's a dark chocolate brown, satiny skirt with a scalloped hem, a short slit, and a heavy crust of copper and gold beads around the bottom foot-and-a-half. I tried it on for fun because I just knew something form-fitting around the hips would make me look bulgy, but once the fabric settled into place, it...didn't. Oh, it clings all right, and I'll have to inspect for VPLs very closely, but it was actually quite lovely. As soon as I figure out a top and shoes, I announced to J., he is going to take me somewhere fancy in it. Maybe that will be my resolution fulfillment for another month: dress up fancy for dinner and a show, something I rather wish I did more of but hardly ever do.
The second for-fun item is still mortifying. I keep trying to phrase it in terms of cheerful experimentation. There were two crazy pairs of pants at the second consignment shop, one a pale yellow brocade sprigged with more yellow and blue flowers and the other this crazy, crazy pair that combines prints of roses, toile, and leopard print in a crazy mix of reds, golds, and dark greens. The brocade seemed a little dingy and worn, but the second, well, the second I think are booty pants. At this particular tiny shop, the dressing rooms were full and there was no mirror in the back room where I changed so I had to keep running through the shop to the tri-fold mirror to check the fit. It seemed like nearly a dozen of these conservative women who liked to dress in black-and-white or just one or two wild accessories with conventional neutrals, nearly a dozen of them urged me to buy the pants. Just wear it with a solid-colored top, they told me. Any color will match. The lady changing in the backroom with me pressed me particularly hard. And, well, I'm still scared of the pants, but because of their encouragement and the dual winter sale and coupon discounts and in the spirit of trying it to see if it will work for the sake of a few dollars, well, I'll try them.
The third thing is actually just as daring for me even if not outwardly so. At the last shop, I had spotted a beautiful, Empire-waist dress in pale orange with silver, lime, and ice blue stylized butterflies on it hanging on the wall. The bodice is ruched, the straps thin, and a satiny soft, dark chocolate and lime sash tie under the bust and in the back. It was also short, only about mid-thigh. I saw it when I walked in but shrugged past it, but I studied it more closely while I checked out with some blouses. Could I try it? I found myself asking the salesladies.
Sure! they said. They didn't think it would be odd at all. One grabbed her hook and gently tugged it off the wall for me. We had some extra time and some ladies were still lingering in the shop, and one of the coordinators promised to wait while I tried it on "right quick." She had found a gorgeous, long brocade jacket that I greatly envied, and we seemed to have a similar style, preferring to layer chiffon tops on top of camis. Both she and the New York consignment shop owner agreed that the dress suited me.
I tried it on, and I wasn't completely sure. Would anyone think I was weird if I preferred to wear the dress with brown leggings? It's short enough to pass as tunic-length even though it is undeniably a dress. No one I suggested it to thought it was odd at all and actually approved my choice. I'm a little concerned that the ruched bodice doesn't fit exactly right and makes me a little bustier than even a ruched bodice is intended to do, but most ladies would consider this a good problem.
So I have my three more daring pieces plus my pants and tops and a bit of jewelry. To my surprise, I also found myself giving advice to about three ladies, and they listened seriously to it and even thanked me. A couple were just assurances that rustic white goes with just about any color and the location of my favorite (and not quite so boutique-y and pricey) furniture consignment shop. But I also gave an idea to the New York consignment shop owner and the leader of the bus tour/owner of two consignment shops herself. Both had pear shapes under long tops that needed a little more definition and a little shortening, and I recommended using a scarf or belt under the bust to create an Empire waist. It may or may not work, but they considered the idea seriously and will probably try it out.
In all, I held my own pretty well. I dressed fairly well for the trip, I didn't have any disasters finding the first consignment shop, and I stuck mostly to my list of needed clothing despite the charged, spend-free atmosphere. Even for the items that weren't strictly on my list like the fancy skirt and the pale orange dress, I already know when I want to wear them and that they'll come in handy for upcoming wedding events. I did break the rule of not having something that already goes with them (shoes, leggings for the dress, a top for the skirt), but what I need for them will fit into my overall wardrobe. The crazy pants will be an experiment, and the other tops and pants already fit into my preferred colors and style and thus need no extra items like the first two. My veggie wrap for lunch--boy, I'm glad I called and asked 'cause the default was chicken salad--was absolutely delicious. I found the two items I most wanted to find--a brocade jacket and at least one pair of work pants--and I even gave some fashion advice to two uber-fashion-capable ladies.
My Lenten resolution was sorely tested, but I managed to hold true. Despite the delicious wrap and my breakfast, neither held me for very long, and shopping made me hungry. Every shop set out nibbles for us for that purpose, but unfortunately, they were all sweets: muffins, doughnut holes, King cake, fancy chocolate cake from a local bakery, and cookies. I pretty much pounced on the grape and cheese tray at the last shop and was so excited when the saleslady told me the pretzels were yogurt-covered instead of white chocolate-covered. I can't tell the difference, and if it turns out it was white chocolate after all, well, it wasn't my fault because I did my best not to break my fast to the best of my knowledge and efforts.
In all, it was a very successful comfort zone stretch. I think Lady Bleu might not be ashamed to call me her fashion student, eh? Regardless, I'm pleased with myself. I undoubtedly made some mistakes--oops, did I not notice in the dressing room that the sleeves of this shirt are just a teensy bit too short?--but it is extremely difficult to obtain a perfect wardrobe. I even won a bottle of hair thickening shampoo from the last store. 'Cause we all know I need some, right?
Epilogue
I don't think I ever shopped so many hours in a day in my life. I hadn't been home long straightening up when J. arrived and took me out to look at tuxedos and sheets. He finally ordered the queen bed, and it was delivered Saturday. However, we have only twin and double sheets between us, and he's not keen to sleep on the couch for several more weeks waiting for someone to give us queen sheets. I used one of our department store gift cards to pick out some pretty Biltmore damask sheets the same shade of blue as his eyes. On sale. Smirk.