Monday, August 13, 2012

Mango Fall 2012

Mango, what a tease. I'm scrolling over the online catalog, salivating over the "Shop Now" flash capability only to discover the items I want aren't going live until Sept. 10. No matter. I will wait. And then I'm going to buy the entire outfit in the first photo.

There is a serious Isabel Marant vibe going on here -- I mean, they even copped Kate Moss.

It's a good thing the H&M/MMM collab isn't going down until November $$$.

(images via

Friday, August 10, 2012


Okay, so I know Plan A is like five lightyears away (but actually six months), but I'm definitely thinking about it a lot more. As I should be. And it's freaking me out.

It's 8:30 in the morning and all I've been doing for the first hour of work is internally freaking out. For something six months away. And honestly, maybe I shouldn't have said anything to anyone. Maybe I should've just upped and left. Cause I was really fine before I started telling people who apparently wanted to play 21 Questions:

"That's great! Did you find a job?"
"Are you going to look for one now?"
"Do you know where you'll live?"

It's not annoying in any way. It's just after two months of answering those questions, I'm kind of anxious, or really anxious. Omg, am I supposed to have a job lined up? Is it not normal to just go there? (Ah yes, that word "normal.") Is this really stupid of me? I guess it's a good thing to be aware of the non-glamorous aspects of actually executing my plan. But then, what about the money? What if I can't make it? What if I don't? I apologize if all of these question marks in my recent blog posts make you crazy, because they sure have been driving me nuts. What am I doing here? What am I doing?

I visited my family in California this past week, and at the end of it, I just wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner of the sectional next to my dog. Don't make me go back. I don't want to pretend I'm an adult anymore. It's safe here. It's sure here.

I think it's one of the only times in my life (you know, all 23 years) I fear uncertainty. It's like I never realized my parents were holding on to the back of my bike seat. I looked down, saw that the training wheels weren't there and thought, "Look at my badass self riding this two-wheeler." Now I have to ride my bike by myself for reals, knowing everyone falls the first time.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

My Sugar-Free Life, Day 2

And I'm about to trade in my right arm for a cookie to go with my morning coffee.

Would you like to know what happened on day one of my sugar-free life? I announced to my boyfriend, my never-eating-dessert-doesn't-even-enjoy-sweets boyfriend, that I wanted to go cold turkey on refined sugar (so fruits are okay) for a few weeks just to kick my need for a daily fix, and he came home with this:

Friday, July 13, 2012

Still Got It

From the NYT Style section:
Ms. Kahng said, “An old buyer from Neiman Marcus that I used to work with, who’s now retired, recently e-mailed me, ‘You’re still the coolest kid on the block’, and she’s right, I’ve still got it.”
Where can I get me some of that?

There's a strange dichotomy within my person. There's a part of me that decides and does what I want with disregard for propriety or of disapproving looks (admittedly, to the point of insensitivity at times), my internal moral compass my only guidance. (If you were wondering, yes, I get lost often.) And then, usually after whatever deed is done, I look over my shoulder and ask, "That's okay, right?" And then...

"That's reasonable, isn't it?"

"Is that normal?"

"Normal," I believe, is the worst word to ever be devised. 

I admire people with self-assuredness, a cool certainty of themselves. (Note: Not bravado.) What do they know that allows them to say, "She's right, I've still got it"? How do they drown out the rest of the world inhabited by [insert numerical digit followed by many zeros] people more talented, more able, luckier even? An Everest, thanks to my crippling fear of failure.

With each year under my belt, that confident, irreverent person steps with a little more spring, but contrary to logic, that only seems to heighten my insecurities. Is that normal?

Maybe that's just one of the cons of being 23. Pros: no wrinkles. Yet. Cons: self-doubt.

(image and quote via NYT, designs by Gemma Kahng)

Friday, June 8, 2012

For the Broke

It was brought to my attention that some of my developed shopping habits aren't instinctual for everyone. I wasn't always a cheapskate, but hey, when times call.

I'm not cheap in the literal sense. Especially since I started working, I've been determined to exercise some restraint and actually build a wardrobe that will last rather than falling victim to every trend that inevitably ends up in some poor neglected bargain basement retailer. BUT I need a good deal 'cause I got no monies.

I'm no expert but I'm resourceful, and I can share a few things I do to avoid paying full price for something I have to, have to, have to -- this is important -- have to have. Yes, cheapskate.

1. I'm not going to say the obvious and say wait for off-season sales, but in the event you do buy something and it gets marked down right afterward (usually within a week), you can ask for an adjustment. I've saved $50+ on one purchase doing this.

2. Usually, most retailers with websites that have e-commerce capabilities also have an email newsletter. Sign up and say hello to 10% off an entire purchase (usually) plus free shipping if they don't already offer that. Plus, you'll get notices on future percent-off promotions.

3. Pick up the damaged good. No, not the irreparably damaged item, but if there's a snag or something else you notice (a small stain, perhaps) that's easily fixed, you can ask for a discount. You'll receive something like 10% to 20% (unlikely) off, but it does mean the item is no longer returnable. Shoes is where this is most useful. If they're a display pair and you're at a retailer with a decent customer service policy (think Nordstroms and up and up), you'll get a discount and shoes scuffs aren't exactly deal-breakers.

4. Purchase store credit from third party sites. Several websites offer store credit at online retailers for half the price. For example, $50 for $100 in store credit. Refinery29 Reserve has exposed me to some pretty cool and obscure online shops. Bloomspot is either a hit or miss, but right now, for example, they're doing the half-off store credit deal for Hampden Clothing.

5. Avoid big names like Shopbop, Bluefly or Revolve because everyone is scrambling to get something before it's sold out. And if you're waiting for that blouse to go on sale, you're not going to get it. Indie-brand name shops to avoid ShopNastyGal, 80's Purple, Pixie Market, Singer22. Generally, I avoid Asos, too, but the exception for Asos is when they have one of their extremely common percent-off flash sales. Like them on Facebook. The lesson here is: big box shops -- good for window-shopping, never for purchasing. Find what you like and....

6. Do yo research. If you don't want to pay for a full-priced item, then you have to put in some elbow grease. Or finger grease. Google that ish (or Bing or whatever), and when I say "Google" I mean beyond the first link under the sponsored links. In fact, I mean beyond the first page. And the first 10 pages. We all should've learned how to skim in high school. And Google Images can help weed out the unrelated content. Almost always I find the item at a lower retail price (like a pretty significant number) at a site I've never heard of before. Just make sure it's legit. If it smells fishy, it's a dead fish. No one wants to end up with a dead fish.

7. Lastly, you can go hunting. As in on eBay, Bonanza or other vintage online shops. There are lots of little blog sites devoted to aggregating and selling second-hand clothing via Internet and bloggers who sell clothes they're not into anymore (like this one or this one). I also really like Threadflip and I-Ella. And if you're doing eBay, make sure that seller has a flawless record. Maybe this one is only applicable to my neurotic self. (i.e. Looking for Alexander Wang buffalo plaid cardigan for, like, years. Years.)

Keep in mind these things only apply when you already have in mind what you want while searching. This is not impulse shopping.

It's clearly Friday afternoon.

(images c/o Pinterest and The Coveteur)


Do you know what's tired? No, not me (although that, too). Facebook, Twitter. Tired.

Granted this is mostly my fault because I'm following/subscribed to the wrong people apparently. It's very possible I'm also one of those "wrong people."

I'm not tired of you. I like you, because if I didn't, I wouldn't associate myself with you or put up with the amusing, sometimes inane, YouTube videos you post on a daily basis. Or read emo, plagiarized Tumblr posts.

Nope, nothing annoys me more than the fortune cookie tweet/status.* I really don't need you to tell me "it is what it is" or to "carpe diem" and "YOLO" the daylights out of my life with circadian, brainwashing regularity. I already know that you're "werkin" or "swaggin" because we're friends, and I love your swag. Or at the very least I know because you tweeted that last week. You don't need to tell the virtual world to treat others the way you would want to be treated because no one's going to openly admit to being a narcissistic despot. Also, my Sunday school teacher taught me that adage when I was two. And you definitely do not need to be posting "don't judge me" because you just updated your status on a different social network ranting about how you got no patience for fake-ass b*tches #karma. I don't know about you, but I am definitely someone else's fake-ass b*tch.

I don't need my twenty-something friends to sound like deranged eighty-year-olds. I don't need you to know everything, because I know everything. Right? Right.

The irony of growing up getting older: year by year, I realize how much I do think this and how much that minor egotistical oversight unfailingly fails me. I think I know everything. I thought I knew everything when I was five. My progress is a little disheartening.

But the progress: it's okay to not know. In fact, it's great to not know. Because when you don't know, there are no other "don't"s or "can't"s or "no"s. When you don't know if something won't work out for you or if you aren't going to make it, it means there's a possibility that it can, that you will. 

No one expects you to know anything about anything when you're twenty-something. They might expect you to know something about something when you become thirty-something. But you won't, or at least I won't, not at the rate I'm going.

And I refuse. I refuse for the rest of my life to be certain about things that don't require certainty, because I've lived a year segmented by boundaries of finances and responsibilities and "no you can't"s. I can't do that anymore.

There's no reason to jump the gun, to put up a front as a Confucian proverb dispenser. There will be a time to spout out aphorisms that carry zero practicality.

So, all of that to say, let's dial down the fortune cookie tweets. #hadtogetitoffmychest #PSnoonereadsthesehashtags

*Often disguising a Humblebrag