Tag Archives: shopping

December 4, 2012 · 4:00 am

For the girl who has everything . . .

Santa


The wishlist.

When I was a kid, coming up with gift ideas was no. big. deal. Give me a slice of paper, a pencil, the Sear’s catalog and boom: my sister and I had finely-tuned lists of everything our little toy-loving hearts could want. And if the Sears catalog with toys wasn’t available? We’d just watch TV, then parrot back every commercial we saw.

Commercials work, guys. Don’t ever forget it.

As I’ve gotten older, the wishlist has fallen away. I’ll attribute this to:

A) age. Because Polly Pockets aren’t as alluring as they used to be.
B) a paycheck — as in, I receive one. Having my own money has definitely impacted the wants I’d stack on a Christmas list.

I’m fortunate to be able to purchase what I need — save, you know, a brand new car or a house or something. Day to day, I don’t need much. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, clean clothes on my back. I have a good job. I have my column. I have family and wonderful boyfriend and friends and readers. When I wake up, I feel a sense of purpose. Even at dark moments, life holds enormous appeal.

So what would I want for Christmas?

I’m struggling. Really struggling. Spencer has asked me multiple times for a wishlist, a catalog of modern-day desires — but the things I really want can’t be purchased. Full-time work for my sister? A clean bill of health for relatives? A lucrative publishing deal? To magically drop 40 pounds overnight?

PresentMy lists usually look the same: a dress or two; some shoes; a few books and movies. Maybe a cool scarf I saw. Some makeup I like but wouldn’t buy for myself. A favorite perfume that sits three-quarters empty, saved for special occasions. If I’m feeling really crazy, a new lens for my camera.

Many men like to buy practical presents. I can’t hand Spence a list of clothes and expect him to feel satisfied with that purchase. And anyway, what size should he get? What color? What if it’s too long? Too short? Being the sweet (and delusional!) guy that he is, Spence always . . . well, he sizes down, friends. He thinks I’m thinner than I actually am, which leads to angst when I have to admit I need a size (or three) larger.

Ack.

So, the quandary. The things guys like to buy — gadgets, appliances, software — are superfluous. I don’t need them and don’t want them to waste their money. I actually thought of breaking down and asking for an e-reader for Christmas — a cheap Kindle or something — but have decided to just stick to physical books for the moment. (That’s a post in itself.) Other than that? Nothing.

I’m stuck! Stuck! Totally stumped! I realize this “problem” is no problem whatsoever, not in the grand scheme of things (and life, and the world), but we’re drawing closer to the big day — and I know everyone wants to finish their shopping soon. I’m almost done . . . just a few more items to order online. And then I will wrap and drink hot chocolate and congratulate myself on another successful season.

Hopefully.

If Spence gets too stressed, I guess I’ll just hand my non-existent list over to Santa. I hear he has “gift” for choosing just the right thing.

—–

What’s on your wishlist this year? Are you going for practical items or fun ones? Choosing not to exchange gifts this year, or scaling back? Have any ideas for a curly-haired bookworm to pass along to her guy? Hit me with ‘em.


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November 26, 2012 · 8:00 am

Of holiday decorating and skinny pants


I used to think we were the only people who decorated so early.

Then I got an iPhone — and an Instagram account. My feed has been flooded with others’ Christmas trees, presents, stockings and ornaments since Friday — and I’m firmly in that camp! After the excitement and good eats of Thanksgiving, we plunged straight into Black Friday shopping and getting the house all decorated for the holidays.

My family almost always puts the tree up the weekend after Thanksgiving — and that held true this year. Ours went up Saturday, and Spencer’s tree (with many of my favorite ornaments, and a few we’ve purchased together) was finished yesterday. With Spence’s mom and dad in town for Thanksgiving, we took advantage of their presence to get his place decorated together. It was great having them here — especially because his mom can totally get him to do things his girlfriend can’t. Like put a balsam swag on the front door. (Hey, it’s not a wreath — the least masculine of all decorating devices, according to the dudes. So whatever.)

With four days off from work, I’m slowly getting back into a groove — and trying to get my head screwed on straight. I’ve been so preoccupied with holiday prep that I’ve neglected my space here and my reading. Ack. I feel completely out of sorts when not immersed in a book, so I’m making my books a priority again starting tonight. Hopefully I’ll re-enter the literary world without issue.

Also, apropos of nothing, I’m wearing a pair of “skinny” pants today. Well, the pants are skinny . . . I am not, of course. It feels really weird to have pant legs hugging my ankles, but I decided I’m too young to look so completely unfashionable — and I needed to ditch my ill-fitting black slacks for something that didn’t make me look like I was wearing harem pants. Eh. Though I’m still undecided, I’m trying something new — and I think I like them. Or have the potential to like them, anyway.

I’ll take it.

—-

How are you this Monday? How was your Thanksgiving? Did you put up your Christmas tree last weekend, or do you wait until the week before to dig out all your decorations? So many questions. And you have all the answers.


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June 21, 2012 · 4:00 am

Random thoughts on the second day of summer

Because sometimes we all need a random post, right?

1. My obsession with nail polish has reached a critical point. I’ve actually taken to selling a few new bottles on eBay to feed my addiction, because really — much like my overflowing bookcases, I can no longer store all the shiny bottles of lacquer arriving from Julep and, um, everywhere else. My nails are currently painted with Julep’s Claire, at right. When a friend commented on it being a “wild” choice for me, I decided I’m not daring enough. My goal is to wear whacky colors all summer long.

2. And in the same vein, I’m buying way too many pairs of flats. I’ve purchased three new pairs of shoes in the past month, which has to be some sort of record for my typical shoe-hating self, but I’m getting them cheaper than expected (eBay!) and trying to replace some older pairs that have really had the ax. I’m trying to up my fashion game . . . marginally, anyway.

3. I finally saw “The Shawshank Redemption” from start to finish — and wow, it’s depressing. (“But it has a happy ending!” my dad recently crowed. To which I say: yes, but just barely.) It was really good, though. Really good. Morgan Freeman is amazing — but that’s not breaking news.

4. My birthday is in less than a month. I typically love celebrating, but July 18 is a Wednesday this year — and that happens to be a serious deadline day for me. With a big section going to press plus all my normal weekly duties, there’s no way I’ll be anything but slammed . . . and that depresses me. But I guess that’s adulthood. I’ll have to settle for checking my Facebook notifications and treat myself to post-work dessert. If I’m lucky, maybe someone else will make me cupcakes. I don’t have to bake my own birthday dessert, right?

5. Speaking of dessert, I’m the head baker for my good friend Erin’s baby shower at the end of June! Blue velvet cupcakes — maybe 72 of them. I’m a little nervous. Baking is no problem, and even decorating doesn’t scare me . . . but the thought of transporting 72 cupcakes along bumpy roads makes my stomach drop. I have one of those big plastic carrying cases, but it only holds 24. Hmm
. . . if anyone has any transportation suggestions, please send ‘em my way.

6. I’ve become obsessed with Brussels sprouts. I know that’s, like, really weird, but they’re my new favorite vegetable. Spencer got me hooked on them, bringing home the steam-in-the-bag variety, and I find myself requesting them at least once a week. Maybe we should try roasting them for something different.

7. I’m in a book-hopping mood. Sometimes I gobble up novels in a sitting or two, never flitting between books — and other times, like now, I’m restless and anxious and . . . I don’t know. Unfocused. I’ve picked up and put down three or four books in the last week, reading 30-50 pages of each before casting them aside. I’m not ready to throw them in the “abandoned” category, but nothing I’ve read since Beautiful Ruins has really held my attention. Really great books seem to do that: ruin you for a while.

8. Despite being a huge and long-standing fan of “The Bachelor” franchise (I know, I know . . .), I just can’t get into Emily’s season. While I initially loved her on Brad’s show, I’m very lukewarm on he rnow. Obviously she’s a real person and I don’t know her, but I always thought she was sweet and maybe a little “above” competing on a reality show for love. (Not that I judge that — I don’t, honestly; everyone has to meet somewhere.) Now she seems like yet another sell-out. But that’s just me; many people still luuuuurve her.

9. A show I am actually enjoying? “Dallas.” Considering I was in diapers when its first incarnation was on air, I have nothing to compare it to . . . but it’s filling the gaping hole in my life left by “Revenge” ending for the season. (My God, that finale. That finale. My jaw = on the floor.) And the actor playing John Ross reminds me of Jonathan Rhys Meyers, which reminds me of “The Tudors,” which reminds me of when I was actually excited about TV. So good times all around.

10. And because I like ending on even numbers . . . I’m really excited to see my family for our annual crab feast/reunion in a few weeks. You can’t be a Marylander without developing some affinity (or appreciation, at least) for seafood, and I haven’t gone crab pickin’ yet this year. Blasphemy, I know . . . but I feel like I’ve barely been home. Here’s to settling back in and wielding a crab mallet in the weeks to come.

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May 11, 2012 · 8:13 am

Etsy Find Fridays: Rock the chevron

As the keeper of all things trendy (cough), I’m not sure if the chevron and chevron-patterned things are recently cool, or a longstanding pillar of cool. I still regularly rock scuffed $10 sandals and have disheveled hair one step away from having me committed. You know what I’m saying? I’m not terribly fashionable. I don’t embarrass myself, but I’m not hip. Not even when I’m trying to be. (And I guess that makes it worse.)

But chevron. So classy. So retro and fun. After I began seeing it pop up on blogs and magazines, I am coveting it. I really want a chevron-patterned skirt, but my search has been (almost) fruitless so far. Still, the joy is in the journey . . . and I definitely enjoy paging through endless shopping sites in search of just the right piece. And these are the pieces I’m lusting after right now.


{Chevron stripe lucite table by tillymaison, $80}


{Vintage chevron skirt from coolvintageplus, $18}


{Chevron thank you cards from Snail Mail Designs, set of 8, $10}


{Black chevron long zipper pouch by MadameCupcake, $11}


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April 27, 2012 · 4:00 am

Brightening up


Black is my go-to. Wearing “dress-up” clothes to work eight hours a day, five days a week, my biggest priorities are looking professional while feeling comfortable. In those early post-college days, I had a handful of dress tops, one pair of (black) slacks and two pairs of heels. When I earned my first paycheck, I started flipping that dough into other pieces . . . and other pieces . . . and still more pieces. Building a wardrobe.

Needless to say, I have a little more clothing now. And, um, a few more pairs of shoes.

But one thing has remained constant: all that black. On any given day, I’m wearing at least one — if not two — black articles of clothing. Black boots, black heels, black flats. Black pants or a black cami under a black sweater. Black earrings with a black belt. Black.

I’m not sure where my late-blooming obsession with dark hues came from, but it’s sort of my signature now. Black and red are incorporated into almost every outfit, and I’m mostly okay with it. Lately I’ve been waking up early only to stand in front of my closet with the familiar, baffled look of a woman who squeaks about having “nothing to wear,” though. I’m just so sick of everything I own.

I went shopping on my lunch break Wednesday, tearing through a local department store until my arms ached under the weight of dresses, shirts and capri-length pants. In 30 minutes, I’d racked up a hefty bill (but had a 30 percent off coupon so, you know. Less guilt). Where once I’d have wandered around the mall with friends and my sister for hours, I rarely get out anymore — so it’s easier to justify my shopping sprees by remembering I don’t piece-meal purchase things throughout the week.

My goal for the outing was clear: buy cute, casual clothes I can wear on upcoming trips to New York City and California, and no black. When I do shop, it’s usually for work-appropriate garb . . . which makes sense, of course. I spend most of my time in work-appropriate garb. But that means I wind up reaching for the same two shirts on Saturdays and Sundays. And even those have black.

Like a frizzy-haired tornado, I wound up with three short-sleeved cardigans (gray, white, fuschia); a knee-length floral dress to wear to “The Newsies” in New York next weekend (ye-ah!); two brightly-colored tops; khaki and blue cotton crop pants; and a pair of fuschia-jeweled earrings. Basically? Everything I would never wear in my “normal” life.

So, for the first time in a year or so (or more?), I recently went to work in a floral, pastel-colored top, brown capris, brown heels and a bright pink pin — as evidenced above. Not a stitch of black to be found.

And I have to say: it felt good. My initial awkwardness over the no-black rule faded by lunchtime, especially as coworkers complimented my ensemble. As we’re thick in the middle of the warm weather months, I’m going to make it a personal goal to have a no-black-clothes day weekly. And if I’m feeling crazy brave? Maybe twice a week.

I’m sure the Angel of Darkness will be glad I’m out of his closet.


——

Is your wardrobe dominated by any particular color? Are you as into black as I am? What’s your favorite color to wear?

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April 13, 2012 · 6:00 am

The second coming of my favorite jeans


I have a bad habit of ruining pants.

The way my jeans tend to wear out, rip and tear, you’d think I was going around doing jumping jacks in the dirt after walking on my knees through concrete. After a year or two, my pants — assuming they still fit — seem tattered beyond repair. They fray, wear out and generally look awful. Part of that is probably due to buying “cheap” jeans, I guess. And the other part? I guess I just live hard.

Even my Levi’s, the most coveted of all my pants, tend not to last long. As I’m on the short and curvy side, shopping for jeans is an exercise in patience and stamina. Everything I find is either too long, too short, too snug or too loose. Nothing seems to fit my figure exactly. I know that women everyone voice this some complaint — even (or especially?) the svelte, 6’1″ types — but it’s seemed like a never-ending frustration in my life.

Until the 545s.

I’m not sure when I first discovered them. Based on my shopping habits, I’d reckon it was at a Macy’s or Kohl’s. Regardless, they had them in my size and inseam (petite/short — depending on your level of political correctness) . . . and since I splurged, they were probably on sale. These were the holy grail of jeans. They hugged exactly what I wanted to hug, didn’t come up too high (or get too low), were a lovely soft faded blue color and generally were awesome.

I wore them for years, basking in their perfect fit. They were my constant go-to pants, always there and lookin’ good. I was probably wearing them on my first date with Spencer.

They ripped, of course. The material around the back pockets became thin and worn, and eventually began to separate. Meaning, you know, it was only a matter of time before I had a serious fashion disaster. And uncomfortable moment with the general public.

Lest you think I throw money about willy-nilly, I tried to repair them myself. My stitches worked okay for a little while, but they really looked silly (and obvious) — and in time, the jeans began to fray in other spots, too. On one sad, cold day, I had to declare them unsalvageable. I’ve died a little inside ever since.

Seeking a replacement, I’ve tried for years to recapture the magic of those 545s with another jean — but nothing ever measures up. I haven’t been able to find the pants anywhere since my pants were wrecked, and Internet searching yielded nothing. I couldn’t even find a record of them on the official Levi’s website. I mean, why? It seemed like a terrible curse, a cruel prank: here, give the girl the most amazing pair of jeans ever in the history of the universe — and then ruin them. And don’t let her find a replacement. Let her live with the memory of the perfect jeans, Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants-style, but keep them away forever.

I tried to drown my sorrows in jeans from Old Navy. I found a few styles I liked, one called the “Diva” (all right, I’ll go with it), but nothing measured up. Every other pair of Levi’s wasn’t right. In a fit of frustration, I tried on a different pair a few months back and convinced myself they were similar to my 545s, but that was a lie. And I couldn’t lie to myself when I got another look in the mirror.

Well.

After years of wearing not-quite-right pants, I returned to my trusty old friend — the Internet — and did another search for the elusive 545s. Fully expecting the bitter pang of disappointment once again, I waded through the results without my interest . . . until.

Until.

You guys, I know Amazon means trouble (and even evil?) for many shoppers, especially those who favor books, but they have my pants. And so does Zappos. Like an answer to my petite prayers, my jeans cut through the ether and appeared on my little laptop screen.

My keyboard caught fire as I furiously clicked to buy them.

I’ve never tracked a package so obsessively. I’m trying to tamper my expectations, just in case the 545s aren’t quite as I remember them, but I really can’t imagine a more glorious reunion.

It’ll feel like coming home.



—-

Are you devoted to a special pair of jeans? Does pants shopping strike anger and annoyance in your heart, too? When you find a style you like, do you tend to stick with it? (Jeans are just one of those things.)

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December 9, 2011 · 6:00 am

Etsy Find Fridays: Spot of tea for you?

We have a really awesome water cooler at work. Maybe you do, too, which means we both work for stellar employers. Because this baby? The literal water cooler around which we often perch, chatting and quenching our thirst? It has hot water.

This might not seem all that exciting at first. I mean, hot water? We can get hot water from a tap. We can get hot water in the shower. But having hot water right from the water cooler means I can quickly, conveniently make myself a cup of hot tea in the afternoons.

No less than six types of tea bags take up residence in my desk drawer. Choosing which to sample in the afternoon is a special treat, and it’s these little luxuries — simple things — that can spice up a long afternoon. And I’m no tea monogamist. Black tea, green tea, white tea — all are welcome here. (In my mug.)

As such, my interest in tea extends beyond merely drinking the lovely elixir. To avid tea drinkers, tea is a way of life. It’s synonymous with comfort. When someone I know is sick, that’s the first thing flying out of my mouth: “Want me to make you some tea?” And when I myself am ill, that’s what I would like to be offered: “Meg, shall I make you a spot of tea?” (In this scenario, you are British. I like that about you.)

In a favorite song by The Script, the chaps sing, “They’ll be a smile on my face and the kettle on, and it’ll be just like you were never gone – if you ever come back, if you ever come back . . .” The lovely image of a handsome guy sitting there with a cup of tea desperately hoping to see my face again? Ready to pass me a mug of tea and listen to my stories, all while apologizing profusely for his wrongdoing? Yes, please. With sugar.

If you’re a tea-swilling crazywoman like me — or just need some holiday gift ideas for someone who is — I invite you to peruse my favorite beverage-related items from Etsy this week. Click on each image to be taken to the item’s listing.



Are you a tea drinker?
What’s your favorite kind?


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