Tuesday, November 16, 2010
What Kind of Girl Am I?
In a fit of existential consumerism, I spent, oh, like 6 hours of my day off yesterday trolling the big box stores. First off, it was preview day at Macy's. I am not normally one to watch for mailed flyers for big sales, but seeing as I am housesitting/dogsitting the Eddy household, I couldn't help but notice my Mom's Macy flier - ONE DAY SALE. ALL DAY SHOPPING PASS.
Sign me up. I am that kind of girl.
Off I went, in my tight new jeans (down another size, check!), all day shopping pass, and mental list of items of possible purchase:
1. Mens Shoes (Erik has apparently worn thru his soles.... again)
2. Mens coats (my man wants a pea coat)
3. Misses (ALL OF IT. LOL)
5. The Lancome Counter (cause, well, I am an addict)
6. Jewelry, shoes, accessories.
Conclusion: The whole store.
I hit the mens section first. Picked up new work shoes for Erik (included soles), and used my shopping pass. Chi-ching! Additional $10 off. Me Likey. The sales men helped me look for any pants in Erik size. Nope. Pea coat? Nope. Undershirts in tall sizes? Nope. Ok, what is it with mens sizes? Apparently you can be tall and skinny, and tall and fat (aka BIG & Tall), but there is a serious gap in options between 38/34 and 44/34. Poor Erik.
On to misses. I approached the misses department like it was my excercise for the day. I tried on more tops, sweaters, jeans, dresses, jackets, you name it, I had it on. And it was fun. Yep. You read that - FUN. And I bought nothing. Yep, nothing. There were lots of things that I liked, but, at this point of the morning, I was starting to feel frugal. I am sure you've had that happen. You go to spend spend spend, and then there is this little voice that says - "really? you really need that? you are going to spend that much money on that?"
I didn't care though, I was having fun.
Detour to the Lancome counter. Now, this counter is not my favorite. My favorire Lancome lady is Mary, and she works at the Boston Store - but nonetheless, I saw in the flier that if you bought a full price product you could get some amazing $300 value of products for $50. Gotta check that out. But my frugal self was thinking, I don't really have any product needs right now. And the Lancome girl (again, not my favorite) was trying to talk me into the $50 gift set that included the party colors and not the muted colors, when clearly, I am a muted color kind of person.... and that turned me off. I didn't want to pay $50 for purple eye shadow. Walk away. Just walk away. What kind of girl am I? The kind of girl that buys cosmetics depending on whether I like the counter person... yep. That is me.
Walk to the shoe department. Am I the kind of girl who wears knee high boots? The pre-weight loss Mara would be decidedly anti-knee-high boots. As Stacy London would tell you, they visually break up the line of the body, and given the need to wear tight jeans, they would accentuate the weight in the mid-section.
But what kind of girl am I now? With my smaller mid-section and my thin calves - I have always had thin calves.
I hook up with my nice shoe guy "Bo", and start in. My only criteria was brown. I want brown boots. But I am not even sure if I would want snow boots (practical, I do live in Wisconsin), sexy boots (cause sometimes you feel sexy), or some sort of every day run around town boot (and what would that look like?). I tried on rubber rain boots, faux sherling boots, flat knee high hobo looking boots, slough boots, buckled boots, field boots, you name it, I had it on. Except cowboy boots. You've got to draw the line somewhere.
And I couldn't decide what kind of girl I am.
Detour to Target. And Kohls. DSW. Marshalls. Famous Footwear. And then online at home - Zappos. In fact, I am still thinking about boots.
I am not convinced I am the kind of girl who wears knee high boots. Or Jeggings for that matter (which is a whole separate blog post all together).
I am, however, the kind of girl who believes that you can redefine yourself. You can transform your life. And you can do this without buying a thing.