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Archive for March, 2009
I just got this email about the next big trend at Anthropologie. Oh. Hell. No.
P.S. I actually wore harem pants in the 6th or 7th grade. I was in my Weirdo-Awful-Trying-To-Be-Claudia-Kishi phase where it was also okay to wear jingly bell anklets (maybe I was just in an I-Want-To-Be-Indian phase) and this pair of wicker shoes I bought at Pier 1 for $2. I also held on to a pair of hand-me-down electric blue suspenders whose clips were Coke bottlecaps, just WAITING for the right occasion. It never came . Let that be a lesson, she who waits too long for the right occasion to wear the electric blue suspenders will inevitably be crushed to find out there is no right occasion.
P.P.S. I love that the copy next to the pants reads “…especially when paired with the right top.” It might as well just say “Fatties, Caveat Emptor” or even more honestly “Mwahahaha. There is no RIGHT TOP.”
P.P.P.S. “Right Top” makes me think that if I ever write about a British character, his last name will no doubt have to be Wrongbottom.
In keeping (as opposed to inn-keeping) with my recession-friendly lifestyle, I seem to be taking actions that would be taken by someone who lost their job. I’ve already mentioned how much I love coupons and in-store circulars and other ways to find bargains, which is one way of going about all that. But you know how they’re saying that the arts will be on the upswing with so many people losing their jobs that those people will return to their more creative pasts as an outlet? Well they are. And even though I still have my job, I applied for a residency at a printmaking studio just because I like to pretend I’m laid off and have nothing better to do with my time.
I don’t know if I’ve gotten in – the application deadline was a week and a half ago and for all I know, in my typical haste I didn’t fill the thing out correctly. But I found a drawing I did that I submitted as part of my portfolio and I made it my desktop because I think it’s kind of weird and funny. Uhh, still life of bananas. Go banana!
Through some good/bad fortune, Live-In Companion and I are moving up one flight in our apartment building. The bad fortune is that we really liked our neighbor and it’s sad to see him go. The good fortune is that his apartment is nicer than ours and we asked the landlord if we could swap. It’s a good deal and we’re very excited (except for packing and all the hassles that come with moving). I’m not really stressed about it, but I did decide to change all my addresses yesterday on magazines I subscribe to. Those magazines are Lucky The Magazine About Shopping, New York Magazine The Magazine About New York, and Martha Stewart Living The Magazine About Making Complicated Things Seem Appealing.
I await my Martha every month and savor it – I skip over whatever landscaping tips Martha has because it’s lost on my yard-less self, I immediately read all about the Cookie of the Month, and then I do a performance piece where I lower my voice and read Martha’s responses to the Reader’s Questions aloud for my own enjoyment.
I went to the Martha Stewart Living website yesterday to find the “Subscription Services” section, and when I clicked on it, the only option was to buy a new subscription. It was maddening. I clicked all over and couldn’t find the “Change of Address” link so I entered “Change of Address” in the Martha Stewart Search Bar. Because that seems logical, yes? Not so much. Perhaps at Lucky Magazine or New York Magazine this would be a simple task, but Martha takes changing an address very seriously and rather than directing me to the place where I can enter my new address, a cornucopia of options about finding the best letterpress artist to create a “We’ve Moved!” card, the most polite way to announce your change of address to your neighbors, what to do with your two-ton stone fountain once you’ve decided to change your address and nothing about how to change the address on my magazine subscription. Uncouth, Martha! Finally a sitemap pointed me in the right direction. All that, just to change the “Apt. 3A” to “Apt. 4B” which won’t make a difference anyway because the mail carrier puts everyone’s magazine’s in a pile on the building’s entry table.
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