I know it seems like I am nothing but a dorky chick and that concept more than likely has its fair share of stereotypes. I'm sure people believe that all I think about is She-Ra and comics. (Ok that might be partially true, but still!) Or that I have no life because I talk to my action figures. (Only when I'm stressed) Well the truth is this, dorky people aren't losers. We have friends. We have other interests besides stalking toy stores.
For instance I love fashion. I can spend as much time combing shoe racks or clothing racks as I can walking through Toysrus searching for the latest Lego Minifigure. I like to call it finding a balance. And let's be real, as human beings, we need shoes. I for one wouldn't dare walk barefoot everywhere. My goodness I'm not a cavewoman.
So it seems I am doubly cursed. I love to collect figures, dolls, and all kinds of dorky stuff as well as amazing shoes, bags, and anything that can make me look better. Some people would call me vain, I however call it preservation. I am cautiously approaching 30 and I want to keep looking fabulous well into my nineties. Seriously. When I am 94 I am going to look amazing. At least that is the plan.
Alright there you have it, not uncommon at all to find me carrying my Uncanny X-Men in one arm and my issue of Vogue in the other. That is kinda me in a Cliffs Notes version. On a side note, the September issue of Vogue is out, and it is their biggest one yet! It is like a phone book! I love it!
Ok so by now you might all be wondering, where is this post going? I love fashion, but my tastes in fashion are for the expensive things. I want to dine on Chanel when in reality I only have a budget for the combo meal at Marshalls (i.e. the clearance rack.) However every now and then I will treat myself to something nice.
For example a few months ago my husband and I traveled to a nice outlet mall that I had been dreaming of going to. When we got there, I literally thought I had died and gone to the Crystal Castle. The place was out of control. I didn't know where to start. It was like going to a library and being overwhelemd by all the books to look through. The outlet mall was a library, of discounts! I got lost in that mall for hours. I completely lost track of time.
Somehow I finally ended up leaving, and on my arm was a shopping bag containing a very nice designer bag. I mean the deal I got on this bag was a steal. Just a total steal. And can I tell you how gorgeous the bag was? It had this sparkly gold leather that just shined so brightly in the sun! It was like I bought my own mini sun to carry on my arm! Just stunning! My husband even got a nice wallet as well (though he would end up losing it a week later, an omen of things to come.) Either way we were just amazed by all the deals we got at this outlet mall!
Eventually we had to go back to our normal lives away from the designer stores with their lovingly low prices. Sadly I had a great deal of trepidation with wearing my new bag out to places. I wanted nothing more than to keep it in the shopping bag, taking it out to admire it every now and then.
Well my girlfriends started to think I was lying about this bag, they all wanted to see it and I wouldn't leave the house with it. So after some back and forth with my conscience, I took the bag outside. For just a few trips out. We went out to the grocery store and to dinner. I wanted the bag to see the outside world and really explore all that life had to offer. I didn't want to be completely overprotective!
Of course the unthinkable ended up happening. I met my best friend for dinner last week. We decided to go to this yummy Mexican restaurant, where the food is a treat. I wanted to come prepared. I felt brave and confident waltzing in the restaurant wearing something amazing and carrying my new bag on my arm! I felt so chic!
Hell, I even saw someone I went to school with that hated me and all I could think was, "Eat your heart out! I look fabulous with my new bag and well coordinated outfit!" For once my hair was looking nice. I had red lipstick on, and it wasn't on my teeth! I was feeling so great!
After we were seated I placed my bag on one of the empty chairs, because any sane person already knows that you never place your bag on the floor (it is dirty) and hanging your bag on your chair will mean that somone will walk by and bump into it. I thought my bag would be safe on a nice empty chair.
Until the kind waiter walked by to deliver some chips, salsa, and green sauce to our table. This is when time suddenly went into slow motion. I watched in horror as the waiter lost his grip on the tray and before the last bowl of green sauce could be safely placed on the table, it slipped and fell. All over my new bag.
My mouth fell open and I looked like one of those whale sharks that floats through the water with an open mouth collecting plankton or whatever the hell those things eat. It was an awful moment. Just awful. My best friend went into quick action and started wiping the bag as best she could. I was still in shock. The waiter was freaking out, I guess he was expecting me to yell at him.
I may be a lot of things, but I am not the kind of person that is going to yell at someone for an accident. I mean I was worried about the fate of my bag, but I wasn't going to morph into Mega Bitch and chew the guy out. That wouldn't be right.
Anyways after I got out of my shock, we tried to clean the bag to the best of our ability. The manager of the restaurant was very kind, he saw everything that happened and offered to pay for any cleaning that the bag would need. I thought that was incredibly nice.
However I do not trust any dry cleaning place to help my bag, and boy does the bag need help. I am pretty sure I got the green sauce off. The only problem is that the bag now smells like some green pico sauce. Really? Seriously? I buy this nice new bag that I am nervous to take out of the house, and the cosmos do this to me? My bag smells like a tasty dip. I am hoping that the September issue of Vogue will share that one of the biggest fall trends is to own a bag that smells like green pico sauce. Cross your fingers!
So now I have all these sweet smelling dryer sheets in the bag, trying to air the smell out. I just can't believe it. I think this is life's way of saying, "Girl, stop trying to feed those expensive fashion tastes and just stick to the Marshalls clearance rack." I'll always have Vogue to thumb through and dream about, and I think that is enough. Because let me tell you, it is a terrible feeling when you buy something nice and something bad happens to it, especially when you have barely worn the darn thing!