Shopping with Culotte

On Saturday I am going to attend my first wedding as a married woman. Unfortunately, this is my first ocassion to buy a dress in over a year. My first thought was "Whee! I get to buy a dress!" About two weeks ago, I thought "Oopsies, I need to buy a dress soon." And then today, about FIVE days before the wedding, I think, "FUCK. I need a fucking dress. Like nowish." And the dress needs to be perfect, because any tailor would laugh in my face if I brought them a dress 5 days before I needed to wear it. LAUGH IN MY FACE.

So I went to the mall. And this is what happened.

5:25pm: Get off the phone with N. He encourages me to take my time, don't worry about dinner, etc. Grateful, I skip gleefully into Macy's. Bring it on, Macy's. I SO OWN YOU. I am about to fabrimatically bitchslap you. Dressicate all up in this place.

5:40pm: I get into my pattern. My mode. My mojo. See pretty dress. Find size. Throw over shoulder. Repeat.

5:50pm: I stumble into the dressing room. Shove 15 dresses onto a teeny tiny hook.

5:52pm: Rip off old stupid work clothing. Touching. New. Clothes. Old clothes suck.

6:01pm: Think to self, Mmmkay. So you're not the size you thought. Hmm. Also think, Apparently mesh isn't for everyone. That's okay.

6:19pm: Dejectedly put stupid old clothing back on. Return to the floor.

6:21pm: Now we are CAREFULLY inspecting dresses. Looking for an empire waist with an A-line skirt and a thicker strap.

6:27pm: Bring 3 new dresses into dressing room. Experience small tremors through out body. Realize that these are what people call "glimmers of hope."

6:35pm: Dejectedly put stupid old clothing back on. Leave Macy's.

6:40pm: Enter small boutique-ish type store on a different level. Grab 5 dresses. Pointedly ignore the slutty strapless dresses.

6:47pm: Stupid dresses. Spot a navy blue dress with small red and white flowers and red trim. Ugh. Strapless

6:48pm: Look at mannequin. Model wear cardigan with strapless. Oooooh. Ugh ugh! Brain starts churning excitedly. Must. Try. On.

6:53pm: SUCCESS! Victory is mine, bitches!

6:55pm: Cha-ching! $64. This, my friends, is what the French call a motherfucking steal.

7:00pm: Car ride home. Frantically start calling friends to see if anyone has a white cardigan I can borrow, as I am too cheap to buy my own. Shit. I need shoes, too.

7:34pm: Arrive at home. Race into bedroom to try new dress on for husband with appropriate vaccuum-powered (read: they suck you in) undergarments.

7:37pm: Stand in front of mirror. Something is wrong here. A-line? Check. Empire? Check. Red Bow? Check. Pigtails? Nay. Cowboy boots? Nope.

7:38pm: N: "You look like a handkerchief." Shit. He's right.

7:46pm: Cuddle in bed with N & Rufus. Decide to return the dress and buy a skirt and top instead, and make sure that those fuckers match shoes/sweaters I already own. Because dude, this is tiring.

…a love story by Becca.

I have to admit, I was tripped up at first by the topic Culotte gave me, “all time favorite product.” I kept reaching into my past for things that had rocked my world like Peppermint Patties or Bedhead Gel or my Gap tapestry backpack. But then I realized, it was right in my hand.

 

Yes <groan> it’s my iPod. Now, this picture is a re-creation, but this song ("Stinkfist," Tool) did actually pop up on my iPod as I walking to the evening service at my synagogue (that's my prayer book in the supporting role). Seriously. I would have taken the photo right then but it would have made me late. But if you had been a child passing by at hip level, that's what you would have seen in my grip.

Although it was the obvious choice, I wrestled with this in much the same way, I feel certain, as my ancestors writing the Talmud did with, you know, the topics they’d been given. I just didn't want to be conventional, and Jebus, what could be more “I’m so hipster” than choosing the iPod as your favorite product? But I’m not, really, I’m choosing the MP-3 Player! Because before I had this iPod, which as you can see* was handed down to me by my grandfather, I had a Rio 500 and really, that’s what changed my life. The iPod was just an expansion of the earth-shattering-ness.

*Look, it's larger than a Mexican doll and a Mets Suck button. And well, let's not even talk about width.

Let me explain. You see, like you, I had a mix tape for my every mood when I was growing up. The “I’m so sad, Dreamy Boy dumped me” mix (it had a lot of Cure on it). The “Driving really fast” tape (it had a lot of early Soundgarden on it). And, of course, the “Dance around my room” tape (it had a lot of Erasure on it). Now, I can have any of those things whenever I want! Except that I no longer have access to a car so it’s more of a “Get out of my way, I’m walking here” mix.

I think this is one of the reasons I can’t replace my iPod with a newer, better one. Aside from the fact that I have a mortgage, that is. I’m very attached to it. I tend to name my electronics and my iPod is called “The Happy Brick.” Nowadays, iPods are more like “Happy Packs of Chewing Gum.” But mine’s unabashedly old and large. It’s no longer hip to have an iPod from 2002 so I feel I can get away with this oh-so-typical choice. Thanks for indulging me on that. But in case you thought I couldn't get any more predictable, the runner up was my DVR. I guess if they made the Six Million Dollar Man out of a hard drive and media player, I’d marry him, no problem. Of course, these days, he’d be the 43 Trillion Dollar Man. Oh wait, that’s Steve Jobs. Never mind.

I just wanted to take a moment to thank Culotte for giving me the opportunity to blog away from Casa Del J-Ball. And her excellent post on my blog really gave me a lot to live up to. Clearly I haven't, but hey, we can't all be as awesome as Culotte. You're the awesomest, Culotte!

[Ed. Note: Let's thank Becca for being my first ever Guest Blogger! (An excellent one at that. But her self-deprication is cute.) And let's all agree with her, because the MP3 player is almost as awesome as me.]