Oh, Hell, One Last Fashion Post
Last year at just about this time, Frenchie and I met for a clandestine shopping trip in New Jersey. You can relive the good times here (but please ignore all the whining that accompanied it. Sheesh! How do you all put up with me?!). In what is clearly destined to be an annual event, we made our way back to Jersey earlier this week.
It was a delightful way to start this week, which is technically the last week before school starts, but is the one packed with meetings and get togethers and such. Tomorrow, for instance, is an all-school gathering, lunch, and then a brief break before a reception. And who am I to complain? The newly-hired faculty have been in orientation for two days, while our writing diva has held workshops for all kinds of campus groups! Psychologically, it would be better to simply accept that school starts this week, but I can't seem to get up on that horse. So complain I will: why aren't my syllabi done? Why can't I manage to edit my damn article? Why do I have to return phone calls from people who ask stupid questions?
Shopping, however, is a great balm for the soul. I'm sad to say that the wonders that awaited us last year were few and far between this year. Either we timed it better last time, Frenchie and I, or else the secret is out: the outlet mall was packed with locals (all of whom seemed to have some tremendous beef with the management; every store we went into had someone arguing with the cashier in loud, nasal tones). I would really, really like to avoid huge stereotypes of New Jersey. It makes it difficult, however, when you can't get out of the state. What's up, NJ? Would it kill you to put up some signage? Basically, I need to know that the Garden State Parkway entrance is coming up and what side of the highway said entrance is on. I need the sign to be bigger than my hand, and I need it to come about a mile in advance, as opposed to the current "turn here right now and you can still make it" warning. That's all I'm saying.
As such, the merchandise was a bit picked over, but Ms. F and I did our best--which is pretty damn good. I found a delightful 60's style print dress, which I have no idea how to wear (hmmm. fodder for another post?), which Frenchie went home with not one but two pairs of footwear, one of which we dubbed "dominatrix-y." But isn't that just part of the charm?
If one is (and I'll claim this label for myself) a "fashion whore from afar," or more politely an "sartorial aesthete," then half the fun of the outlet mall is witnessing untouchable clothes. God knows that Urbania doesn't have a place where I can go and ogle the latest Stella McCartney or Prada lines. And I certainly can't put my foot in a Manolo Blahnik shoe. But I can in Jersey, which almost makes up for the horrible roads! (The Ikea doesn't hurt either.) So, whilst in many meetings and receptions tomorrow, I'll have this mental image in my mind's eye:
My mind's eye will have photoshopped out my dorky tan lines, of course. And may I just say that Manolos would fit better if I didn't have bones in my feet? Despite these nagging details, it was fun, and what a lovely shoe! Almost as lovely as the feeling of taking it off. Whew.
May all of you have a similarly fantastic and distracting talismanic image to get you through your workweek.
It was a delightful way to start this week, which is technically the last week before school starts, but is the one packed with meetings and get togethers and such. Tomorrow, for instance, is an all-school gathering, lunch, and then a brief break before a reception. And who am I to complain? The newly-hired faculty have been in orientation for two days, while our writing diva has held workshops for all kinds of campus groups! Psychologically, it would be better to simply accept that school starts this week, but I can't seem to get up on that horse. So complain I will: why aren't my syllabi done? Why can't I manage to edit my damn article? Why do I have to return phone calls from people who ask stupid questions?
Shopping, however, is a great balm for the soul. I'm sad to say that the wonders that awaited us last year were few and far between this year. Either we timed it better last time, Frenchie and I, or else the secret is out: the outlet mall was packed with locals (all of whom seemed to have some tremendous beef with the management; every store we went into had someone arguing with the cashier in loud, nasal tones). I would really, really like to avoid huge stereotypes of New Jersey. It makes it difficult, however, when you can't get out of the state. What's up, NJ? Would it kill you to put up some signage? Basically, I need to know that the Garden State Parkway entrance is coming up and what side of the highway said entrance is on. I need the sign to be bigger than my hand, and I need it to come about a mile in advance, as opposed to the current "turn here right now and you can still make it" warning. That's all I'm saying.
As such, the merchandise was a bit picked over, but Ms. F and I did our best--which is pretty damn good. I found a delightful 60's style print dress, which I have no idea how to wear (hmmm. fodder for another post?), which Frenchie went home with not one but two pairs of footwear, one of which we dubbed "dominatrix-y." But isn't that just part of the charm?
If one is (and I'll claim this label for myself) a "fashion whore from afar," or more politely an "sartorial aesthete," then half the fun of the outlet mall is witnessing untouchable clothes. God knows that Urbania doesn't have a place where I can go and ogle the latest Stella McCartney or Prada lines. And I certainly can't put my foot in a Manolo Blahnik shoe. But I can in Jersey, which almost makes up for the horrible roads! (The Ikea doesn't hurt either.) So, whilst in many meetings and receptions tomorrow, I'll have this mental image in my mind's eye:
My mind's eye will have photoshopped out my dorky tan lines, of course. And may I just say that Manolos would fit better if I didn't have bones in my feet? Despite these nagging details, it was fun, and what a lovely shoe! Almost as lovely as the feeling of taking it off. Whew.
May all of you have a similarly fantastic and distracting talismanic image to get you through your workweek.
Labels: shopping; sartorial goodness
posted by kfluff at 8:03 PM
3 Comments:
I still think you should've bought the Manolos. Just imagine how happy you would've been looking down at your feet during that first department meeting!
I love the nail polish color!
Fabulous feet!
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