Monday, August 9, 2010

Wait What?

For those of you who visit my blog regularly, you are probably aware that I visit ModCloth, and subsequently post items from there a good deal. When I was composing this past week's Wish List Wednesday!, I selected a charming cloche from the Hats and Scarves section of their accessories page. Many selections of headgear lied before my eyes, however, I was not expecting this.

Um, what the fuck?

ModCloth, I would not say that I adore you, but I do enjoy visiting an online retailer showcasing both current and vintage clothing that normally falls within my budgetary means. A dress, a tunic, a cardigan sweater, earrings, sunglasses and a beautiful pair of booties have found their way from your stock into my closet. Since when did you start catering to the furry market?

For some clarification, I enjoy hoods. In sickness and health, I have worn my sweatshirt hoods on my head even indoors. They are cozy, warm, and I kind of like feeling like a cross between a mage and Link. What I don't feel like being is well, a furry. I have cosplayed people. That's adding some basis to where this is coming from. If a cosplay girl finds something unusual, unfashionable, and fugly, then it's pretty close to being it. Upon further investigation, this is not a creation of ModCloth's but rather from Spirit Hoods, another retailer.

A zebra hood? Why do we need a zebra hood?

A new meaning to leopard print?

Look at that guy. He is not ensnared by some form of her primal, animal-like sensuality. He's kind of scared and wondering "shit, there better be some good sex out of this 'cause chick be craaaaaaaaazy". My prediction might not be completely accurate, but look at that face. That face is not okay.

I like to think of myself as fairly fashionable, but I admit I am not at the head of the line. Therefore I ask you world, is this where we are headed? Devolved as man back to primal brethren?

Really what I am asking though is wtf?

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Considerate Self-Esteem Boosts Bring About Sales

On Thursday, my dear Chelsea and myself explored the lovely world of women's lingerie. There could be men's lingerie for all I know, and I don't discriminate. Anyway, we visited Macy's, so that Chelsea could fully understand the floor plan of the department store at Crossgates, Aerie, Victoria's Secret and Frederick's. I only tried on garments at the last two locations, but they, mainly Victoria's Secret inspired this post. Trying on clothes, or any form of garment for that matter, is best performed in a dressing room where you can fully observe the fit with a proper view. Basically a fitting room has a way to close you off from the rest of the store and a mirror.

The above requirement is the bare minimum, and unfortunately for many stores, the minimum is the standard. I'm sure you are all aware of the retailing products available at Victoria's Secret and Frederick's. They are cute, provocative, sexy and revealing to say the least. In the past I have purchased several items from there including underwear and body items, however, I had never tried their swimwear line.

We expect a decent dressing room from an establishment whose products force you to be face to face with 85% of yourself and the remaining portion adorned in lace and ties. Lingerie can be a certain source of vulnerability for some. Simply, the average consumer expects some comfort from Victoria's Secret and Frederick's. What caused me to have unexpectedly pleasant visit this trip was not the lingerie, however, it was the swimwear.

There is only one thing that is on the same level as shopping for a bikini for me, and that is jean shopping.

Being scantily clad in lingerie in a dressing room is easier for me to swallow since I can subsequently control the number of people who see me in it. Bikinis strip you of both covering and control. Once you're on a beach or at a pool and the shirt comes off, there's no stepping back. You're there, bare and you'd better be able to muster up some pride. Being such a nerve-wracking experience for many, you'd think there would be measures set up to ease the process to select such a daring garment.

Instead, there are oddly angled mirrors, fluorescent lighting, and not a sales attendant in sight. In the past few years I have purchased swimwear from Zumiez and now Victoria's Secret that wasn't for a lap lane purpose. Target, bless your heart, I love you so much with your low prices and agreeable quality, however, I cannot buy a bikini from you.

Every time I try, and believe me it's to the process of a dog running into a wall over and over, desperately trying to wag it's tail with some form of hope. I've tried different cuts, colors and all sorts of suits. It's not the suits. I like most of them even on a hanger. I cannot stand the dressing rooms. I do not appreciate staring at myself in fluorescent lighting. Fluorescents are a plague upon female kind. If I actually wanted to see how pale I was, well I'd look down. If I wanted to see the cellulite on the back of my thighs and denier, well I'm not sure what I would do, but I am pretty sure that I wouldn't.

Unsightly dressing rooms only cause potential customers to be unnerved and beaten down. Who wants to buy something after wearing it has caused almost every drop of self-esteem has been flushed out of your body? Victoria's secret had soft, yet visible and realistic, lighting. There was enough space to move around without being forced to confront a wall. Body flaws were still visible, there is only so much you can do after all, but it did not matter. The suit I tried on, in the setting I tried on, made me smile. I could do this, I could work it, and hell I even looked pretty damn good. All it took was the right setting. The right background to give emphasis to a gorgeous foreground. A lot of retailers would do well to refresh their painting basics.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Wish List Wednesday!

Standardized large tests are the bain of my existence. By 2010 aren't we supposed to have helmets which just suck the information and knowledge out of our heads? I dream of the day when test anxiety goes away.

Well lookie there, I made a rhyme.

Trying to stay on the positive, let's move along with Wish List Wednesday.

Last week was shoes, and I figured I'd go on an accessory kick. That being said, hats are the focus of this week. First we start with something simple. Hats of simple but structurally sound construction design can add a lot to an outfit lacking that certain something, with that being said, this cloche, a small wide-brimmed hat seems to be a nice top to the fall.

Next along in headgear highlights, the seasons shift to winter for this hat. I have a large place in my heart for all things warm and fuzzy, and this piece by Diane von Furstenberg seems to be one of the highlights of that category.


Lastly, I leave with a formal note with thisfascinator. While it is a miniature hat, four feet of a tulle train is just too exciting.

Have a good week folks. I hope it's a bit better than my day was.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Self Indulgent Attention Time

Unfortunately I don't have much to report today. Yes, there were plausible ideas for posts and pondering today, but many lingered only for a second as I spent the bulk of my day baking banana nut muffins, arguing with Time Warner cable, cleaning my apartment and studying like crazy. I am still studying now. I do not know when I am going to be able to cease.

My Actuarial Exam P is on Wednesday.

Nervous doesn't even begin to cover it.

My mom has asked me "so what if after taking the exam, you decide you don't want to do this?". The decision isn't the question. My determination and pure emotion aren't questionable. I want this. Try telling that to my procrastination behemoth fueled by anxious nerves of uncertainty.

I've been here before. I should have studied more. I should have studied harder, better, faster, stronger, all that should have without a Kayne West song. No beats to move me along, just a dreary melody of "should have".

At this point, I'm just going to cave myself in tomorrow apart from a run and the necessary trips to the dining hall for food.

Nerves suck.