Category Archives: … at Sassy Styling
Oh my God. I’m a hoarder.
I am. I am a legitimate hoarder. I have long been a watcher of Hoarders and Extreme Hoarders and People Who Hoard Coupons So They Can Hoard Lots More Crap For Free so that I could witness people who were way worse off than me and revel in the fact that having a little laundry on the floor and an overwhelming collection of magazine clippings wasn’t so bad. But as it turns out, I was merely watching an extreme version of myself. I am… a fashion hoarder.
Everyone that knows me knows that I like clothes, jewelry, accessories and talking about/taking pictures of/buying said items. I’ve really been trying to control my tendency for spending, so recently I took it upon myself to do a little organizing, which turned into a full on retail store style inventory.
I would also like to point out that this was my last day off before a seven day stretch at work so this very quickly turned from a leisurely clean up game into an existential crisis as to how I got here.
It started small, as these things often do. Steve has been mildly hinting that he is literally out of house and home (wardrobe-wise… probably kitchen-wise too) and that my “section” of the closet had spread so far over to his side that his shirts were suffocating. I kind of laughed it off, until he stood in our once a walk in (I say once because at this point, it’s so full that there’s about a foot left of space to walk into) and started scanning my all white hangers for answers. He quickly discovered that I had many things hung that didn’t really need to be. Like tank tops, for example. Did I really need to hang my tank tops? No, I said out loud, while my inner monologue told me that the reason the tanks were hung is because there was no where to store them folded, either. But marriage is all about compromise, so I was determined to make it work.
Once I made a trip to The Container Store.
Before you accuse me of being a shopaholic, know that one of the best investments I have made in my wardrobe decisions was purchasing Our Deep Sweater Box. Our apartment has nine foot ceilings, so the top shelf of my closet had a ton of wasted space. A few months ago I purchased a retractable stool and one of those containers, and I was able to make room for all the bulky winter sweaters that seem to fit nowhere else. When thinking about how to eliminate a fraction of my stuff from his side, I determined that if I acquired just one more Deep Sweater Box, I could move my cardigans out of one of my smaller Ikea boxes and put the tank tops in that box. Genius. Also, it was the Spring Organization Sale, so the Deep Sweater Box was a whole dollar less. Point, Lindsay.
Then I started pulling out my tank tops. I started with the whites, and there were quite a few, which is to be expected, because who doesn’t need multiple white tanks? But as I made my way through the pale pinks, yellows, oranges, reds, purples, blues, greens, grays, browns and finally into the blacks that I realized… I have a hell of a lot of tank tops. So many that they literally engulfed my queen sized bed.
i guess you can just refer to me as tank girl from now on.
I started to freak out a bit, calming myself only by the reassurance that it just looked like a ridiculous amount because the weren’t neatly color coded and folded. But once I rolled them and arranged them into a rainbow-like pattern, I felt the overwhelming need to determine exactly how many I owned.
tank roll ups. like fruit roll ups, but take up a hell of a lot more space.
And there were thirty. As in three-zero. THIRTY TANK TOPS. I am only one person. How could I possibly own that many shirts that are barely shirts?
Then the obsession really started.
If I had somehow acquired that many of a most basic under layer of clothing, how many of other items did I have? Am I really that bad a judge of numbers or do I have a problem here?
I don’t think I have to tell you what happened next. But I will, because that’s what blogging is about.
I went Rainman on myself and began counting everything I own. And not only counting, but documenting the process so that I could remind myself later what something like, oh I don’t know… seventy five t-shirts look like?!
so.many.rolls.
That’s right. Seventy five. Also rolled, because I’m convinced that’s the only way that things will ever fit. I think the real question is… when was the last time you even saw me in a t-shirt?
I figured I might as well go all out and head to the dress closet. Some of you may know the story of the beloved dress closet. This was a particular amazing find from a random Wednesday night Ikea trip when I still lived at home in New Hampshire. My parents and I drove to Ikea in search of extra storage for some of my closet overflow. We found this armoire in the As Is section, which if you didn’t know is an extra 10% off on “Wacky” Wednesdays. I ended up taking this piece home for a whopping $36! We barely had enough room in the car, and I rode the whole way home in the passenger seat with my knees hugged against my chest, pressed up against the glove compartment, armoire digging into the back of my seat. But I didn’t care, because it was such a good deal. If that’s not bargain shopping, I don’t know what is.
Oh wait, this is:
all my favorite gals. hello, ladies.
I always knew I had a lot of dresses. I mean, I think it was implied by the fact that I needed an entire extra receptacle to house the collection that had to be kept in my parents room because it didn’t even fit in mine. When I was living at home I want to say I had about seventy five total. I figured I still had that amount, give or take some. Believe it or not, I have given away a few things over the years. Emphasis on few.
Looking at this closet, what would you guess was in there? Eighty? Eighty five? Personally, I think it looks like thirty, which probably explains a lot about the way I am. But you’re all wrong.
IT’S ONE HUNDRED.
That’s right. There are exactly one hundred dresses in the closet. Now that is including all types- sundresses, coverups, formal wear, wrap dresses and more. But what are the odds that there would be exactly one hundred?!
Next I moved on to the roommate of my dress closet, the black skirt. Now I have to wear solid black bottoms to work, so this does seem like more of an essential, but fifteen? Fifteen black skirts. I may as well work at a funeral parlor.
back in black.
From there, one can only go downhill and see how many black tops are being combined with those skirts. And the answer surprised and depressed me:
oh wait, more black.
Fifty seven. Fifty seven black tops. Granted, a few patterns snuck in there, but please look at the rest. Even Johnny Cash would be like “giiiiirrrrrl you have too many black shirts.” That is, if Johnny Cash were a homosexual who happened to be helping me organize my closet.
house of cardigans.
At this point I figured I should go back to what started this whole thing. So even though I had already neatly organized my cardigans, I grabbed my stool and almost decapitated myself trying to bring down my new Deep Sweater Box, probably because the weight of twenty two cardigans is one that no woman should be allowed to bear alone. And yes, nine of them are black. While I like to organize by color, for the sake of time management, I thought it best to keep the black ones on top.
Here’s one that just baffles me. I didn’t even count this one, because I don’t understand how it’s physically possible to have so many pajamas that your drawer doesn’t close. Also I was afraid if I took them out to count them, I would never be able to get them all back in. Let’s remind ourselves- this is an overflowing draw of articles of clothing that ONLY ONE PERSON sees.
what, didn’t you think the pj’s would be rolled, too?
After this I just couldn’t take anymore of the clothes, and for some god forsaken reason, I thought it was a good idea to move on to accessories. It was there I found myself knee deep in oversized tote/beach bags (18):
this is straight up terrifying.
Clutch purses (14):
just a hint of a clutch obsession.
And of course, earrings (107):
okay, well we all knew this was a problem.
It really couldn’t get any worse. Until I looked at my nail polish collection (75):
four minis should equal one regular sized nail polish. 75 polishes equal one regular size crazy person.
If you think that there’s no way there’s seventy five bottles of nail polish in this photo, you’re right. Because there’s an overflow of about sixteen full sized and seven minis chillin on top of this container as well. Also I counted these not realizing I had lent four bottles to a friend.
After all this, I did semi achieve my original goal of providing my darling husband a little extra real estate in the closet area. I didn’t think to take a before picture (and actually showcase something POSITIVE in this post), but I happened to snag an after. That teeny tiny amount of white hangers towards the back? That’s all that is left of me on that side.
make room: the striped polos & hockey jerseys need their space.
… Minus the shoe wheel hiding underneath. Now Steve can actually move his hangers around, which is really helpful when he’s on the desperate search for his colonial night shirt. I wish I was making that up.
I was so proud of myself, I decided it would be a good idea to tell Steve when he got home just how productive my day was. As I verbally explained to him my voyage into my closeted past, he saw the list I had made out of the corner of his eye where I had recorded all the numbers of things I had counted. He glanced at me as I stared back at him, and we immediately beelined for my Glee notepad. Since I was obviously tired from the road to reformation and he apparently possesses cat-like reflexes, he got to it first.
And then he exploded.
As he read each number, I could feel his blood pressure rise and tiny bits of steam escape his ears. When he got to the nail polishes, he lost it.
“Seventy five?! You have seventy five nail polishes?! You have TEN FINGERS and TEN TOES. You will physically never be able to use all of that nail polish again in your entire life. THAT’S $500 WORTH OF NAIL POLISH. You are never allowed to ask for nail polish ever.”
In my defense, I think he was just a bit testy on the whole issue because he had to desperately search for a particular color and brand of lavender polish that I had asked for for Easter, which caused him to have to go on a mad dash through the mall the day before in between working at the restaurant and going to the Bruins game.
After this, Steve felt it was necessary to make his own version of my list, outlining how many of each of these pieces a sane person without a shopping addiction should have. His “notes” are written in black on the left side. The green is the chilling realization of what I already own.
the figures on my notepad are trying to tell me something.
As I was organizing, I posted pictures of my progress and current counts on Twitter, thinking I would get some sympathy or at least like a “girl, I feel you” style support from my fellow fashionistas/bloggers. It turns out that even those that care the most about clothes took one glance at my pictures and were like “girl, you have a problem. Seek help.” So apparently, it is just me.
I got rid of an oversized tote bag worth of stuff that day. I donated the tote too. And I know that I should part with more. But I actually genuinely like most of the stuff I own, even the pieces that I haven’t worn in two years or that still have tags on them. Because they motivate me to have the kind of life where I will wear all of these things on a daily basis and never have to repeat an outfit twice.
I might as well sign a lifetime contract with TLC. Or just, you know… buy less.
~L
I have a habit of becoming obsessed with a particular fancy (i.e. expensive) item that I cannot afford. Most of these obsessions are in direct relation to pieces of jewelry from Kate Spade. And how could you not?! Even just looking at their website makes me happy. My “Baubles” board on Pinterest is 80% full of things from Kate Spade alone.
So when you combine that with Glee, we have a real problem. Thanks to the website Fashion of Glee, my addiction is not only fed, but encouraged. You see, thanks to this obsessively accurate site, you can see every piece that a character is wearing and find out where it’s from, from tube socks to headbands. They even find pieces that the actors are wearing out and about or on the cover of magazines. It’s borderline ridiculous, but then again, so am I.
Speaking of obsessive, our favorite guidance counselor Emma Pillsbury can often be seen wearing all kind of fabulous pieces from Ms. Spade. I know a lot of teachers, and I’m pretty sure that the majority of them can’t spend $245 on a short sleeved sweater, but hey, these kids also break into song in the middle of the school day, suffering no disciplinary repercussions whatsoever.
I love almost everything Emma wears, because it’s always bright, slightly weird and adorable, which is how I feel about myself sometimes. So when I discovered a necklace that she had worn on an episode earlier this season that featured a hefty pair of gold glasses hanging from a chain, I knew I had to have it. Not only because she wore it, but because I’m a little bit obsessed with glasses and have always wanted to need them myself.
i’m so distracted by my curly-haired beau that I accidentally bought this crazy expensive necklace. oops
Of course I looked it up and was horrified to discover that the necklace was $148! I don’t have glasses, but I’m pretty sure that people don’t even pay that much for functional specs. I showed them to Steve, and he did this thing that he does when I show him ridiculous things that I want. He yells “HA HA!” really loud like someone just told a hilarious joke, then stares me right in the eyes and shakes his head while defiantly saying “no.”
Well clearly I wasn’t going to buy it. Even I know that’s outrageous for a piece of jewelry that is really more of a conversation starter than anything. But sometimes you just want to admire things… and then think about how many pints of blood you’d have to sell to get it.
So I forgot about said glasses necklace. Until Cyber Monday when my friend Patty posted on her “Things to Love on a Monday” series that the necklace was ON SALE for less than $50. And then a little piece of me died because it was 11:30 pm and it was totally sold out. Also, my husband still laughed at me and told me that’s it’s not really in the spirit of giving to buy yourself things barely a month before Christmas. It was then that my dream of owning a tiny pair of glasses on a chain was shattered.
Until January.
I was at work, preparing for inventory, when my former associate Sarah (who has moved onto bigger and better things out in St. Louis- HI SARAH!) informed me that she had something for me. Never one to turn down a gift, I giddily accepted, until she pulled out a tiny white satchel with the name Kate Spade emblazoned in its signature green across the bottom.
Me: No, Sarah, you didn’t.
Sarah: No, wait, there’s a story.
It was then that she informed me that this find was from TJ Maxx for $4.99. $4.99!!! I didn’t think it would be physically possible to even purchased the lid to a Kate Spade gift box for $4.99. As I opened it, she informed me that while it wasn’t the necklace I had been coveting, she thought that I could possibly turn it into one with the right tools.
Behold! My very own… Kate Spade keychain!
cuff be gone
But not for long. Because I grabbed my tools and got to work.
yes, i have tools.
I was going to take off all of the links except for the one connected to the glasses, but I was worried it would sit correctly. I decided to undo the second circle ring, but I basically needed the jaws of life to pry it apart. Also I felt like I was chipping it the more I poked at it. So I settled for the ring at the end, because at least if I ruined it, I figured it would be easier to get rid of it later without screwing up the whole thing.
I had purchased a cheapo necklace at Forever 21 to use just for the chain. I just went and looked for something that I wouldn’t care about taking apart. It almost broke the bank.
tiny glasses are way cooler than tiny trumpets
chain chain chaaaaain
My finished product ended up much longer than the original inspiration, but I like it.
golden-colored glasses
The thing that I love about Kate Spade stuff is that there are hidden messages. Like all the bangles have little sayings inside them. Of course, they are useless because no one ever knows those things are there but you. But it’s kind of like having a secret… with yourself.
read between the tiny tiny print
done & done
Of course I can’t just wear this necklace have people compliment me on it and be like “thanks, it’s Kate Spade, of course.” Well, hopefully I wouldn’t say that anyways, because I would be a huge tool. But no, when I wore this on Saturday to work I had to let everyone and their mother (including Sarah’s actual mother, who works there as well) know that not only did I make this, but the materials all together combined cost less than $10. But that’s sort of my favorite part.
~L
My blogger brain is on overload right now, because I am currently preparing for the Blog Better Boston conference on Saturday and I’m so excited/nervous/unhinged right now that I can barely function. I have spent the better part of this last month getting psyched up for this event, topped off by frantically completing every possible thing I could today since it was my last day off prior to the conference. Homemade blog business cards have been cut, my ticket is printed and I did an extra pore strip to ensure I look my best for Saturday.
Of course, none of this compares in importance to the most critical piece of this whole thing, what I will be wearing. I know, I know. Isn’t it more important to focus on what you’ll be learning at the conference? What workshops and panel discussions you will be a part of? The potential blogger friends you (hope to) make? Yes, of course, those are all things that I am very excited about. But ever since February when I purchased my ticket, my brain has been consumed with finding just the right ensemble to represent myself and Lindsay’s Look to the Boston blogging community. And dammit, you know all those fashion bloggers are going to be there looking something fierce. I’m no fashion blogger, but I like to think I can put together an outfit.
Only I can’t. Correction: I used to be able to and now I’m stuck. Isn’t that always the way? Every morning, when I get ready for work and pull out another all black ensemble, I woefully glance at all my “fun” clothes, i.e. everything else I own. There are patterns and textures and open toed shoes! When I glance around my very underused wardrobe, I put pieces together in my head and think about the next time I could have a chance to wear it. And like clockwork, the day I actually do have somewhere to go that is not work related, I can’t think of a damn thing to put on that isn’t… black. Because I literally forgot how to get dressed.
So I figured tonight I would go through my closets (yes, plural) and put together a couple things and then decide on the best option, assuming it would take about an hour. Cut to two and a half hours later, and all I have is messy room and a sleepy husband, who keeps reminding me that although I “can’t think of anything to wear,” I cannot “buy something” due to lack of inspiration.
I figured why not ask the source directly- what do you think I should wear? I have spent a large portion of my day going through my favorite fashion blog posts searching for inspiration. Fortunately for all of you, I coerced my husband to take pictures of my potential outfits during intermissions and timeouts during the Bruins game. Let the judging commence.
Sidenote: There is a reason I am NOT a fashion blogger. Okay, there are many reasons. One of which is that I always decide to take pictures of my outfits at 11:00 pm and I always take them inside (because it’s 11:00 pm, duh). In my tiny apartment, the area in front of the door is really the only suitable spot without furniture, tchoskys and black and gold memorabilia. And yes, there are always going to be shoes or some other form of unnecessary crap in the background. You’re lucky that Steve managed some trick photography to hide the trash that was to my right. Also, because it is so late when I finally get around to taking these pictures, I am never wearing makeup nor is my hair done as if I were actually to leave the house. As a result, I have the world’s darkest under eye circles you ever did see. So we’re going to focus on the clothes and not the scariness that is happening just north of my neck. I did my best in the editing phase to take out all of the qualities that would frighten a small child, but apparently the “Retouch” button on iPhoto is not the same thing as an “Instant Concealer” button that I had hoped for. Lastly, I was being so crazy about the clothes, there was really no time to pick out specific accessories for each look. As soon as I have a definite winner, I will definitely add some banging accessories, since they’re kind of my thing.
So without further adieu… I give you… some outfits. Be kind. But honest. But not too honest.
left: dress, ann taylor loft; belt: ny&co
right: skirt, forever 21; top: express
Anyone that knows me knows that I have a slight obsession with all thing nautical. If you need proof, take a look at my bedroom. Red, white and blue pieces are literally my favorite clothes to buy, because they never go out of style and they always look good together. I decided to add a pink neon belt to the polka dot skirt just to mix it up a little bit. I don’t always need to look like Uncle Sam, you know.
I should preface this by saying that the dress for the event is being described as “casual.” That doesn’t give me a whole lot to work with, but I would always rather be overdressed than underdressed, especially in a room full of bloggers. Also, my trusty iPhone weather is telling me that it’s going to be 60 degrees on Saturday. After being in the mid to late 70’s all week, of course it’s going to be cloudy and slightly chillier on Saturday. So some of these skirt ideas may not end up happening. But I love wearing dresses and skirts, so I couldn’t leave them out of the fashion montage I had going in on here a few hours ago (which fyi, seems MUCH simpler in movies).
left: pants, gap; top, ny&co; blazer, jc penney
right: jeans, forever 21; top, banana; sweater, gap
So these two looks are definitely embracing the “casual” concept a little more, especially the one on the right, because let’s face it- I’m wearing boat shoes. I really like the look on the left, but I’m thinking maybe it would look better with white skinny jeans instead of capris. Must… not… buy… anything…
left: jeans, forever 21; cardigan, ny&co; top, express
right: skirt, ?; cardigan, ny&co; top, banana
If there’s one things I’ve learned from all the fashion blogs I read daily, it’s that neon is in. But you can’t be crazy looking like an 80’s hooker or something, you have to be strategic and use your neon sparingly for maximum effectiveness. The look on the left is definitely my favorite of the two. I always forget I have this cardigan because I hardly ever get to wear it, but whenever I do, it makes me happy. I threw the pink belt on again to show that I don’t mess around. I can totally mix neons- what of it?! The look on the right looks like someone going to work, or what I imagine someone who has the freedom to choose what they want to wear to work looks like. Also I pretty much wear those black flats everyday and I was hoping to stay away from black as much as possible for Saturday.
left: pants, gap; top, old navy
right: jeans, forever 21; t shirt, j crew; jacket, forever 21
I know, more neon. I just can’t help it. Neon is fun to wear, and I’m fun and I feel like we just go together. Again, the look on the left I feel like I would prefer with white jeans instead of the capris, only because it’s still March and all. I can just hear my mom in the back of my head reminding me that it’s not even Easter yet. And yes, that is the same belt in neon yellow. What can I say?! The set of two was $6.99, and you know that I don’t like to spend too much on anything “trendy” because let’s face it- how long are we going to be sporting neon belts, exactly? Also, I know I said no black, but that jacket with the pearls is one of my favorite things in my wardrobe. I love dressing it up and dressing it down, which I did with this amazing neon tee that I’m also a little obsessed with (even if it does STAIN MY BRA every time I wear it- thanks J. Crew). I think this is a good look that says slightly professional but still fun, which in my head is what I am.
left: jeans, forever 21; top, limited; cardigan, ann taylor
right: jeans, forever 21; sweater, banana; jacket, banana
Along with “casual,” conference attendees were specifically told to wear comfortable shoes, because the reception afterwards is a bar that is walking distance but not like, next door. But holy hell, what a difference a heel makes. I’m wearing the exact same pair of jeans in both pictures, and yet I look ten pounds heavier in the picture on the right. It may seem like this cardigan with a belt is a go to thing for me, and well, it is. No matter what size you are (or what you appear to be- see photo on the right) if you accent your waist, you are always going to be showing off the smallest part of your body. I’m thinking I’m just going to bring one of my bag lady purses and throw a pair of flats in for the end of the day.
left: jeans, forever 21; top, old navy; blazer, banana
right: jeans, forever 21, top, banana; cardigan, ann taylor
I feel like all the fashion bloggers I like are always raving about leopard and stripes together. When I see it on them, I don’t get it. Then I tried it myself and I’m like omg, this is really fun! It’s like they were made for each other! Like me and belts, apparently, because there’s another one on the right. Oh, and my red-orange cardigan. I love that thing. It’s the perfect weight and an unexpected color. In this look I was also channeling my inner fashion blogger by trying to mix different colors that I never would have before. Thinking outside the box here, people.
So that’s what I put together for now. What do you think? Is there one that really stands out, or are they all duds? And yes, I have infinitely more clothes than this, but my brain literally could not handle one more outfit.
Despite this very stressful fitting I’ve subjected myself to, I’m so so SO excited for Blog Better Boston. I will be sure to come back with lots of exciting tips to hopefully help make this blog even more awesome. And hopefully, I’ll have a new blog friend or two. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll want to borrow my outfit.
I am not a fashion blogger.
I’m not even sure what kind of blogger I am. I started out strictly writing about celebrity scandal because I missed my college weekly column. Then came “the Tree” and additional tidbits about my thrilling personal life. Now, it’s kind of a mix of both. I spend a ton of downtime reading other people’s blogs because it’s inspiring to read things from people that you can tell they’re really passionate about. Like me making fun of people.
One of the ones I read on a daily basis (mainly because she posts daily) is What I Wore, a fashion blog by Jessica Quirk. She is an amazing blogger, and her blog is the type that all blogs want to be. It’s classy, organized and clean, which are qualities my blog aspires to but rarely achieves. Usually her posts center around her fabulous ensembles, but this week there was a twist thrown in, as she was calling all style bloggers for a Winter Remix Challenge.
Like I previously stated, I am not a fashion blogger. I like clothes, I have lots of them and continue to buy more even though my husband yells at me. I would love to work more fashion into my blog, but there are a few challenges that stand in my way.
1. I wear black 5 out of 7 days a week. I try to mix in as many textures and over sized jewelry that I can get away with, but overall my everyday look is totally snooze worthy.
2. I live in a 700 sq foot apt. I have no quality back drops for mini photo shoots, hence why I keep standing in front of the door. I could go outside… But I live on the third floor. And it’s cold. And I don’t wanna.
3. I still don’t own a full length mirror. So it’s very hard to tell if one end of my outfit goes with the other. I can stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom and see the top and I can stand on a stool in the hallway and see the bottom in the bathroom mirror. But never the whole thing in at once.
4. I could never ask Steve to take my picture everyday. Everytime I do, he gets one good outfit photo and at least 6 of my butt and/or me making this face:
4. I could never ask Steve to take my picture everyday. Everytime I do, he gets one good outfit photo and at least 6 of my butt and/or me making this face:
are we serious right now?
But today the fashion blogger inside me got her day, as I was one of the 80 or so that got their 15 minutes of blog fame by being featured in the challenge. Ever since I spent a Sunday morning staking out the Jason Wu collection and cursing the existence of the evil under lord that is Target, I have been racking my brain to figure out how I could wear my two pieces before July. So this was the perfect opportunity to try.
However, like most things I do in life, I procrastinated and never got around to taking the photos or even putting the clothes on, until last night during the Grammys with the 11:59 submission deadline looming. Assuming an Adele sweep, I raced to my room and threw on the ensembles I had planned in my head and ordered Steve to snap my picture as they announced Album of the Year (before you freak out on me, I rewound and caught her teary acceptance speech when I was finished. SO CHILL OUT). Hence why my hair and makeup looks like crap. I threw on some red lipstick, hoping for a miracle.
Then I attempted to download the 10 pictures, which took about 20 minutes because I have so many freaking photos on my 4.5 year old MacBook. I started to sweat a little bit, but like my book reports in 4th grade, I work best under the pressure. I threw the layout out on the soon to be extinct Picnik and composed a nice intro email and clicked send. And it was 11:57.
me & wu down by the school yard
And now I am all over the Internet! Well maybe not all over per se, but featured on a blog with a huge faithful readership. So for a novice like me, pretty damn exciting.
So thank you to Jessica for featuring us on your blog today. Go to What I Wore to check it out, and while you’re there look at all her clothes because she’s pretty awesome. If you hadn’t heard of it before, your outfits will thank you. And then I will thank you, because I don’t have to look at your sad outfits anymore.
I know that every other New England resident has spent the past week planning their Superbowl parties and stocking up at their local packie, however I am not one of them. My week consisted of an all-consuming obsession with getting my hands on Jason Wu for Target pieces that happen to be debuting today, otherwise known as Superbowl Sunday. Well, not for me. Today was Wuday.
Let me preface this by saying that I am not that kind of shopper. I have never participated in an early morning sale of any kind. I am more of a shop-on-a-random-Thursday-in-the-clearance-section-and-stumble-upon-a-great-cheap-pair-of-shoes-because-all-the-normal-sized-shoes-were-already-purchased-by-people-with-normal-sized-feet type shopper. I work at a mall. I am surrounded by clothes all the live long day. I rarely have Sundays off. So my idea of a fun Sunday morning when I don’t have to work in retail is to stay as far away from a shopping center as possible. And sleep.
But somehow this week, my curiosity about Wu’s collection grew from a general wonderment to a full on neurosis that pretty much consumed all my extra mental energy. I began stalking fashion websites all week with a coworker, plotting the best tactics for beating out all the crazies that ruined Missoni for the rest of us sane people.
After discovering that my nearest Target was on “The List,” as the collection would be presented at a limited amount of stores, I immediately felt relieved. After all, Milford isn’t a particularly fashionable area, and judging by the looks I got from people when I mentioned Jason Wu, very few were going to be out on the front line me at 8:00 am Sunday morning.
There were three pieces I was dying for. These were them:
kirsten called. she wants her hair back.
Notice I said “were.”
I knew that there were a chance that a few of the items in the 60 piece collection wouldn’t be in the store, as they were online exclusives (like the black tie blouse). But the navy poplin dress? That is the dress of my nautical dreams. I had to have it.
Similar to the way an athlete stretches before a big game, I prepped myself last night. I set out my outfit- leggings, a tight tank and a zip up sweatshirt (just in case I had to try on garments over my clothes in a fashion frenzy), switched from my new Kate Spade “Stevie” bag to an oversized canvas Old Navy clearance purse (so I could easily throw my outerwear in it in my trying on fury) and got my allowance from Steve (Christmas money from his grandfather that I had been saving for something special). I set my alarm for 6:45 am and tucked in early.
I woke up at 5:00, 6:00 and finally, 6:45. I had a foreshadowing dream that I thought I was the first person in line, and then it turned out everyone was hiding inside Target already. And instead of Target, it was an auditorium that was half Target/half bar and for some reason Shia Labeouf was doing an unplugged acoustic performance. Okay maybe it wasn’t totally foreshadowing. Needless to say, it was the fastest I’ve ever woken up that early in the morning. I felt like it was Christmas, except the presents weren’t going to come to me, I was going to have to go and take them. Well not take, but snatch and then rightfully pay for.
I scarfed down an English muffin for energy, filled my Nalgene and headed out the door. I arrived at the Milford Target exactly at 7:30 am and found… nobody. The parking lot was empty except for tired looking employees in red shirts and khakis. A coworker and I had conspired to meet there, and as we sat in my car, we visually surveyed the parking lot with the stealth of a sniper. Anytime a car would enter the lot, we would scan the driver and decide whether or not they were fashionable enough to be showing up at the crack of dawn for nautical dresses and daisy print scarves.
Finally, a few other weary shoppers arrived. Noticing the lack of a line at the door, they continued to sit in their cars as well, since it was 7:30 am in February and all. Around 7:50 am, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was so paranoid about being beat to the door that we quickly shut off the car and made a run for it. Slowly, the others followed. Amateurs.
There ended up being five of us in line. FIVE. If that isn’t a testament to the demographic around here, I don’t know what is. Suddenly I was thankful for living in the sticks. I could only imagine what those poor saps in Somerville or Watertown were doing. As we stood outside the door, we peered inside and could see hints of red white and blue stripes. We were so close.
Finally, an unenthusiastic security guard unlocked the door. While we had engaged in polite banter outside, the mood changed immediately upon stepping through the automatic red doors. I bolted to the dress I had seen from outside and grabbed the XS and S. One of the most challenging things about these special collections is you never know how the sizes are going to run. It’s not like going to Banana Republic and knowing that you can take home any size 4S without trying them on and be golden.
To my left was a peach, yellow and black striped dress featured in many of the ads. “No way,” I thought. That’s the exact same color as my skin.To my right was a white t-shirt with a giant black cat on it. Also featured in all the ads and also weird. I stepped around the back side of the display and found… an entire rack of Mossimo butterfly shirts. I looked up and noticed the display said “Jason Wu.” Odd.
usually i wear black socks by accident when i try on dresses. sorry, mom
“Excuse me,” I asked the sales clerk. “Is this all there is of the Jason Wu collection?”
“Yes, that’s it. There’s some bags over there,” she declared and walked away. She clearly did not want to get caught in the wrath of the five most fashionable people in the extended Worcester area.
The other shoppers and I walked around the same three displays in disbelief. A dull peach blouse here, a black pleated skirt there. A gray t-shirt with faux lace down the front. So many pieces, just not even there. I couldn’t believe it.
slim pickings
I snuck a peek at the bags. They were cute, but there was nothing that made me want to die. You know, like in the Rachel Zoe way, not actual death. Plus I had my limited Christmas money budget and I was under strict orders not to spend a dollar more. And I have a gazillion purses, so I felt okay with my decision to walk away.
Before heading to the fitting room, I grabbed a navy sleeveless top with daisies on it with a mesh netting thing at the top. Since I couldn’t find any pieces that even resembled anything I had been hoping for, I figured I should try something that was slightly reminiscent of Wu’s frequently used print. I got the only XS, and there were probably only 8 of each item total. One XS, two S, two M, etc. I also grabbed another navy dress with daisies printed on it and a yellow belt. Why the hell not.
The most successful find was the red, white and navy shift dress. While it wasn’t the nautical dress I really wanted, it was a good summer jersey dress that I felt I could style into something special. Plus it closely resembled a t-shirt from the collection that I also wanted but was not in the cards for me that day.
shy sailor
I also sort of ended up liking the blue daisy shirt. It was a little short for my liking, as I am short myself, and I felt like I was just amplifying my shortness, but the model was wearing it with a high waisted skirt, so if I just tuck it in, I will look like a model. Done.
so.many.prints.
The blue dress was another story. There is no picture of me in this because it’s probably one of the worst fitting things I have ever tried on, and I did high school theater. The bust area was flapping in the non-existent wind, and the yellow belt needed about three more holes to actually cinch where I imagined my waist was supposed to be. And that was an XS. If you are a busty petite woman, it’s the dress for you. I am only one of those things. Guess which one.
even. more. prints.
So I settled on my two pieces. Out of the selection that was there, I considered it a success.
victorious… i think?
Finally, it was time to head home. As soon as I got to my apartment, I jumped onto target.com to see if the situation was as bleak as I imagined. Sure enough, every item- sold out. I figured I’d have much better luck going to the store than trying to score stuff online, so I didn’t even try. Now I sort of wish I had persuaded my husband to also wake up and stalk the Internet for me while I went on my excursion. All over Twitter and Facebook, livid customers vented their frustrations about the availability (or lack thereof) of the products and accused Target of purposely manufacturing as few items as possible to drum up interest in the line. Oddly enough, the dress I had so coveted showed up as once being available in the Milford store, but currently sold out. Weird, because I was THE FIRST PERSON THERE.
If you follow @targetstyle (as I so furiously do now), you know that they claim that at the end of the week, some additional merchandise will be added online. What, we don’t know. I can only hope that my dearly beloved navy poplin dress is one of them. And that I have little to no work to do so that I can be on my phone 24/7 this week.
So without further ado, I give you… my Wu.
please remember how early it was. makeup was nonexistent
ahoy, matey
I will leave you with this:
Steve: What did you buy? Johnny Wu?
Me: Jason Wu.
Steve: Oh. I was trying to tell my mom I couldn’t remember.
Five minutes later:
Steve: What was it? Johnny Chow? Jason Lee?
Ugh. Men. Good thing I didn’t ask him to scour the Internet for me after all. I would have ended up with a black cat drawn on a t-shirt in Sharpie with “Johnny Chow” on the label.
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