wordinista (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wordinista) wrote2004-12-11 10:43 pm
wordinista) wrote2004-12-11 10:43 pm
New outfits and office parties...
Lord a-mighty, yesterday was a day from the seventh level of hell.
Taking![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
recurrence's advice, I got to the mall early-early -- about five minutes before the department store of my choice opened, actually. I probably should've taken the time to sit down at Barnie's Coffee & Tea and have a latte and a biscotti, because I WOULD NOT EAT AGAIN UNTIL EIGHT PM.
Anyway, I went to Dillards and found my way to the dressy-dress section, and was dismayed to find that the dresses seemed to run in two styles: Uber Holiday-Slutbeast, and Matronly Mrs. Claus. Anything that interested me remotely was not available to me for reasons of price or size. I am 5'10" as many of you know, and have shoulders that can be considered "broad" for a woman. Things that fit me perfectly through the waist/hips/bodice area were impossibly tight through the shoulders and arms. Sigh.
The woman helping me was quickly getting on my nerves, which didn't really help matters. She was a little elderly lady, and what was positively charming behavior turned annoying after about five minutes. She had a very "Mister Magoo" vibe going on. And the woman working with her was good at... hmm... smiling uselessly. Yes, that's about it.
And here's a hint for anyone who happens to work in retail -- if your customer comes out with an armful of outfits and says, "I'm sorry, but, no, these really didn't work for me," DON'T ask, "Why not?" Because by about the third dress that didn't fit through the shoulders, I was starting to feel like Herman fucking Munster, and was already under enough stress, thankyouverymuch.
Well, I finally found a pair of awesome velvet pants, which I doubly loved, because they were long enough for me. However, all of the uber-smexy holiday blouses were off-limits to me and my Munstershoulders, so I asked the woman if she could hold the pants for me while I wandered around the store, looking for a festive, but dressy sweater to go with. I also needed to get away from her for a few minutes, because I was rapidly losing what little patience I had left.
But would she let me leave easily? Of course not!
Her: "There wasn't anything here that you liked?"
*mentally throws hands up to the skies*
Me: "I just want to get a feel for what else might look good with the pants. I was thinking maybe a sweater-set or something."
Her: "Well, what kind of sweater are you looking for?"
Me: "I don't know -- a twinset. Something festive."
Her: "What does it look like?"
Me: *forcing smile* "I don't know yet. I'll know it when I see it."
She then started giving me detailed directions on where to find various designers -- names that mean... pretty much nothing to me (aside from the Big Ones -- you know, Ralph Lauren, Anne Klein, DKNY... people I cannot afford without the help of a sale price). So, I nodded politely until I could make a break for it.
OMFG -- it's TWO WEEKS before Christmas. IT SHOULD NOT BE THIS HARD TO FIND A RED SWEATER. I mean, I found sweaters, but they were the big, chunky casual type sweaters. I was looking for something fine-gauge... maybe with some light beading.
I found nothing.
Well, nothing that didn't suck.
So I had to go back and try on the sweaters that I found but didn't really like very much. Of course when I got back to the department that was holding my pants hostage, I had to wait to be noticed while Anne (the sweet, if slightly annoying elderly lady) and Marie (her dizzy, rather useless helper) helped... someone else. I then tried on the sweaters -- hated them all -- and had to wait to be noticed again to let Anne know that I was going to check out some of the other shops for something.
Holy Blasphemy, Batman.
She looked simply stumped that I couldn't find anything I liked in that store.
So after assuring her about three times that, yes, I would come back for the pants, I left Dillards. (I would've left the mall entirely, but I really dug those pants.)
I traveled from one end of the mall to the other only to come to two realizations:
A: Our mall has subtly shifted its demographic to please people about ten years younger than I am.
B: Any establishment that evicts Suncoast Music and Video while allowing four bazillion "Claire's Boutique" rip-offs to exist is an agent of Satan.
By the time I'd passed five boutiques that would help me NOT AT ALL (Charlotte Russe, Hot Topics, American Eagle, Abercrombie and Fitch, and The Limited [actually, that last one might have had something promising, but the cold chill I got about six seconds after walking in to the shop drove me out -- I was a bit disheveled, you see, and disheveled people are not welcome in such fine stores]), I was losing hope.
And then I wandered into the Gap.
Yeah, I was surprised too. But I found this off-the-shoulder sweater -- sooo soft, in black. They also had these adorable little cardigan with sparkly buttons, but only in XS, S, and M, and Munstershoulders wouldn't allow any of those sizes.
Sooo, I got the sweater, and the pants, and then bopped over to Ross and found this cute little black handbag. I then had to bop over to my mother's house to find the dress shoes I had forgotten when we moved out. Thankfully she wasn't there, otherwise it would've turned into a half-hour visit, and I didn't have the time to waste, as it was already past noon and I had a 3:00 nail appointment.
Now, everything would've been fine if I'd just gone HOME by that point. I would have had time to grab some lunch, maybe a nap. But nooooo -- I kept wondering if the Perfect Red Sweater was waiting for me at the NEW "open air" mall they just built up by my place. (I went to the "old" mall for my shopping needs, b/c most of the stores at the "new" mall aren't open yet.)
So I went. And found the... perfect red sweater. *sigh* So I got it, figuring now I had a choice, and I could try both sweaters with the pants and return whichever I didn't like.
Of course, as I turned to leave the store in this lovely "open air mall," I learned at once the fatal flaw in the designers' plan.
It was raining goddamn cats and dogs. By the time I got to my car, I was SOAKED. Like, "fresh-from-the-shower" soaked. I also had a half-hour before I had to go to the nail appointment. And I needed to go to Target and buy an iron, because George's shirt? Looked like it had been slept in.
SO! I ran into Target (and I'm quite sure that the chinos I was wearing where completely see-through by this point, but oh well), found an iron, purchased it and ran like hell back out to the car. I got home in time to bring the bags up to the apartment, change into dry clothes, eat a left-over dinner roll, and run back out to the car and drive for my nail appointment. I was also getting my hair done, because it doesn't really cost THAT much, and I knew I'd get myself into a cranky, sweaty tizzy if I did my hair myself.
The nails were painted RED, and were (and still are) very pretty. My hairdresser was running late, because the old lady before me was being crabby. Of course, because she was late, so was I. *sigh* I was planning on being home by 4:30. I got home closer to 5:00. I wrangled myself into my nylons, and went with the black sweater and pants (after George told me the red embroidered sweater I found looked "frumpy").
It all turned out okay, though, because our ride to the party was running late, too. The party, once we got there, was fantastic. And there was much food and drink to be had (though the food was kind of mediocre and the drinks were kind of overpriced). But it was very much fun, and we got home at... between three and three-thirty in the morning. So today has pretty much been completely shot, but last night was FUN.
Taking
recurrence's advice, I got to the mall early-early -- about five minutes before the department store of my choice opened, actually. I probably should've taken the time to sit down at Barnie's Coffee & Tea and have a latte and a biscotti, because I WOULD NOT EAT AGAIN UNTIL EIGHT PM.Anyway, I went to Dillards and found my way to the dressy-dress section, and was dismayed to find that the dresses seemed to run in two styles: Uber Holiday-Slutbeast, and Matronly Mrs. Claus. Anything that interested me remotely was not available to me for reasons of price or size. I am 5'10" as many of you know, and have shoulders that can be considered "broad" for a woman. Things that fit me perfectly through the waist/hips/bodice area were impossibly tight through the shoulders and arms. Sigh.
The woman helping me was quickly getting on my nerves, which didn't really help matters. She was a little elderly lady, and what was positively charming behavior turned annoying after about five minutes. She had a very "Mister Magoo" vibe going on. And the woman working with her was good at... hmm... smiling uselessly. Yes, that's about it.
And here's a hint for anyone who happens to work in retail -- if your customer comes out with an armful of outfits and says, "I'm sorry, but, no, these really didn't work for me," DON'T ask, "Why not?" Because by about the third dress that didn't fit through the shoulders, I was starting to feel like Herman fucking Munster, and was already under enough stress, thankyouverymuch.
Well, I finally found a pair of awesome velvet pants, which I doubly loved, because they were long enough for me. However, all of the uber-smexy holiday blouses were off-limits to me and my Munstershoulders, so I asked the woman if she could hold the pants for me while I wandered around the store, looking for a festive, but dressy sweater to go with. I also needed to get away from her for a few minutes, because I was rapidly losing what little patience I had left.
But would she let me leave easily? Of course not!
Her: "There wasn't anything here that you liked?"
*mentally throws hands up to the skies*
Me: "I just want to get a feel for what else might look good with the pants. I was thinking maybe a sweater-set or something."
Her: "Well, what kind of sweater are you looking for?"
Me: "I don't know -- a twinset. Something festive."
Her: "What does it look like?"
Me: *forcing smile* "I don't know yet. I'll know it when I see it."
She then started giving me detailed directions on where to find various designers -- names that mean... pretty much nothing to me (aside from the Big Ones -- you know, Ralph Lauren, Anne Klein, DKNY... people I cannot afford without the help of a sale price). So, I nodded politely until I could make a break for it.
OMFG -- it's TWO WEEKS before Christmas. IT SHOULD NOT BE THIS HARD TO FIND A RED SWEATER. I mean, I found sweaters, but they were the big, chunky casual type sweaters. I was looking for something fine-gauge... maybe with some light beading.
I found nothing.
Well, nothing that didn't suck.
So I had to go back and try on the sweaters that I found but didn't really like very much. Of course when I got back to the department that was holding my pants hostage, I had to wait to be noticed while Anne (the sweet, if slightly annoying elderly lady) and Marie (her dizzy, rather useless helper) helped... someone else. I then tried on the sweaters -- hated them all -- and had to wait to be noticed again to let Anne know that I was going to check out some of the other shops for something.
Holy Blasphemy, Batman.
She looked simply stumped that I couldn't find anything I liked in that store.
So after assuring her about three times that, yes, I would come back for the pants, I left Dillards. (I would've left the mall entirely, but I really dug those pants.)
I traveled from one end of the mall to the other only to come to two realizations:
A: Our mall has subtly shifted its demographic to please people about ten years younger than I am.
B: Any establishment that evicts Suncoast Music and Video while allowing four bazillion "Claire's Boutique" rip-offs to exist is an agent of Satan.
By the time I'd passed five boutiques that would help me NOT AT ALL (Charlotte Russe, Hot Topics, American Eagle, Abercrombie and Fitch, and The Limited [actually, that last one might have had something promising, but the cold chill I got about six seconds after walking in to the shop drove me out -- I was a bit disheveled, you see, and disheveled people are not welcome in such fine stores]), I was losing hope.
And then I wandered into the Gap.
Yeah, I was surprised too. But I found this off-the-shoulder sweater -- sooo soft, in black. They also had these adorable little cardigan with sparkly buttons, but only in XS, S, and M, and Munstershoulders wouldn't allow any of those sizes.
Sooo, I got the sweater, and the pants, and then bopped over to Ross and found this cute little black handbag. I then had to bop over to my mother's house to find the dress shoes I had forgotten when we moved out. Thankfully she wasn't there, otherwise it would've turned into a half-hour visit, and I didn't have the time to waste, as it was already past noon and I had a 3:00 nail appointment.
Now, everything would've been fine if I'd just gone HOME by that point. I would have had time to grab some lunch, maybe a nap. But nooooo -- I kept wondering if the Perfect Red Sweater was waiting for me at the NEW "open air" mall they just built up by my place. (I went to the "old" mall for my shopping needs, b/c most of the stores at the "new" mall aren't open yet.)
So I went. And found the... perfect red sweater. *sigh* So I got it, figuring now I had a choice, and I could try both sweaters with the pants and return whichever I didn't like.
Of course, as I turned to leave the store in this lovely "open air mall," I learned at once the fatal flaw in the designers' plan.
It was raining goddamn cats and dogs. By the time I got to my car, I was SOAKED. Like, "fresh-from-the-shower" soaked. I also had a half-hour before I had to go to the nail appointment. And I needed to go to Target and buy an iron, because George's shirt? Looked like it had been slept in.
SO! I ran into Target (and I'm quite sure that the chinos I was wearing where completely see-through by this point, but oh well), found an iron, purchased it and ran like hell back out to the car. I got home in time to bring the bags up to the apartment, change into dry clothes, eat a left-over dinner roll, and run back out to the car and drive for my nail appointment. I was also getting my hair done, because it doesn't really cost THAT much, and I knew I'd get myself into a cranky, sweaty tizzy if I did my hair myself.
The nails were painted RED, and were (and still are) very pretty. My hairdresser was running late, because the old lady before me was being crabby. Of course, because she was late, so was I. *sigh* I was planning on being home by 4:30. I got home closer to 5:00. I wrangled myself into my nylons, and went with the black sweater and pants (after George told me the red embroidered sweater I found looked "frumpy").
It all turned out okay, though, because our ride to the party was running late, too. The party, once we got there, was fantastic. And there was much food and drink to be had (though the food was kind of mediocre and the drinks were kind of overpriced). But it was very much fun, and we got home at... between three and three-thirty in the morning. So today has pretty much been completely shot, but last night was FUN.
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