just put it in the bag.

my palms are sweaty, my heart is racing, my mind is running a thousand miles a minute.   i pick up the pen and sign my life away, and for half a second, i have a mini orgasm.    i tell myself that i’ll eat ramen for the next week to justify my splurge on these goddamn shoes.   or the bag that cost almost half my rent.  or this dress that brings a tear to a grown man’s eye.  this jacket that i’d gladly give my right arm for.  this purchase that i now call mine.  i. die.

call it what you want it, im a fuckin’ shopaholic.

i have whats called an addictive personality.  i find something i like, have it aud nauseum for the next 7 months, then find something new and get over it. for example…  toyose’s kim chee fried rice.  it’s been a weekly staple in my diet for the last year.  I still havent found anything that has caught me as heavy which is fine by me.

most women like to shop.   my friends LOVE IT.  for a select few its an addiction.  its the itch in ur wallet when u just got paid and wonder what stores you can stop at on the 17 mile route home.   its the anticipation of typing in topshop.com to ur navigation bar and seeing what’s new and what’s affordable.  its the absolute ecstatic victory when you’ve been searching and searching and searching and searching for this one item that seems to be sold out everywhere and then…. there it is, staring at you, in exactly your size.   you can almost here it saying, “buy me.  wear me.  love me.”

ok maybe its just me.   but there’s something about retail therapy that does the deed, everytime.    i gave up shopping for lent one year and it was the hardest 40 days of my life (frankly i’d rather give up breathing.) but it has taught me to be selective in what i spend my money on, and to make sure i get that good good everytime.  do i need it, will it last me, and most importantly, is it WORTH IT?

i’ve cut back a lot and proudly call myself a recessionista.    i don’t mind swapping clothes w/ friends or borrowing shit, and it helps that most of us are the same size.  after all, “one mans trash is another man’s treasure” and there ain’t no shame in my game.   but every once in a while, the allure of something new and shiny just can’t be ignored.   feel me??  =)

champagne wishes and caviar dreams

i’m probably gonna get a lot of shit for saying this, but… i think the person who single handedly glamourized money, riches, and fame is a fat balding british man by the name of Robin Leach. 

this yellow rat bastard brought “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” into middle class homes and put into our heads the necessity for bigger tv’s, pools in the backyard, and crystal with dinner.  paired with easily accessible credit, the booming art of hip-hop and its flambuoyant rappers, and the appeal of drugs, sex and rock and roll and we have dug ourselves into a muthafuckin  recession.

a recession so bad that my friends who were pulling in a 6 figure income 2 years ago have had to foreclose their homes and move back in with their parents.  that my brother has had to take a forced semester break from school because the classes he needed to fulfill his GE have been cut.  that my credit card companies have raised interest that i needed to get rid of them completely.  

and yet there are still people out there who FRONT like they got it like that.   but maybe they do and its their perrogative to spend their money as they please.   but is blowing 3k on a blinged out jesus piece gonna get u anything but some sideways glances and a desperate fucker scheming a way to jack it from u?  probably not. 

we’re all in the same boat!  this recession has hit me hard.   i make a pretty decent living, but with rent, a baby, school loans, 2 car notes and utilities i have little to spend on myself.  i still feel like im living paycheck to paycheck and adonis ain’t even in school yet.   so we cut back on shopping and traveling and going out.   i spend days with my friends vegging out on my couch rather than at the bar.   we opt for a homecooked meal rather than a fancy dinner out.   clothes are recycled, and sample sales and christmas deals turn out to be our very best friends.  

surprisingly,  we  still have just as much fun… with the jobless, the homeless, and the uneducated alike.   cuz even tho we still got champagne wishes and caviar dreams, we’re content with beer and fried chicken. 

when you don’t have much,  you realize you don’t need much.

and once you realize this, none of that shit matters.  bringing it back to basics opens opportunities.   so many of my friends have taken unemployment and turned it into FUNemployment.   not working for the man has given them the chance to work for themselves and they are much, much happier for it. 

not being able to make it rain ain’t no thang when ur doing exactly what u love to do.  i truly believe that in doing so, the money will come naturally.   but maybe by then, we’ll be past wishing for champagne and dreaming about caviar,  cuz we been done had it for lunch.  

money can be a bitch, or money can be your bitch.    so here’s my advice for makin the latter ring true for you.  cut the fat and the bullshit.  stop lying to urself about what you “need” and always always always save for a rainy day. 

now excuse me while i go return those shoes i “needed” for my birthday.

chee hoo for jimmy choo.

a lil ditty i wrote for hellz.

there was an old lady.. who lived in her shoes. they were jimmy choo’s. 

last night i was sitting in my sister’s room oogling over the Jimmy Choo for H&M release.    I am so freakin excited i plan on camping out in the cold SF streets and being the first ones in line for the first ever clothing that has Jimmy Choo’s name on it. and of course, the bags and the shoes.   the freakin SHOES. 

i already know its gonna be bananas (i remember the Stella McCartney for H&M release.  i came home with scratches on my arm and a bruised rib)  so this time i came up with a game plan.   ladies and gents, if you’re ever in line for a sample sale, a limited release, or anything of the sort.. these tips might help.

1.  do ur research.   know exactly what pieces you want and what size you need.  for instance, i’m getting that blue suede dress in a euro size 8, and the shoes in a euro size 5.   wont that be a bitch when you get ur true size and that shit is too small or too big cuz u didnt realize that euro sizes are different?  

2.  wear tight fitting clothes.  leggings and a wife beater is my staple wardrobe for this kind of event.  why?   because while other bitches are taking off their blazers and tee to try on that jumper,  you’ll already be looking at urself with that shit over ur clothes.   and what do u know.. it fits like a glove.  

3. wear closed toe, flat shoes.    or REALLY COMFORTABLE closed toe heels, wedges, whatever. just make sure ur toes arent out cuz bitches be STOMPIN and there’s no time to be cryin about a lost pinky toe.  

4.  wear a fanny pack.     i pull out my gucci waist bag cuz im  gonna need both arms — one to hold bitches back/elbow the bitch in ur grill , and the other to take the last size 28 pants.   trust me, the girls you’ll beat out will all have big ass bags on their shoulders..

5.  leave ur phone in the fanny.   or better  yet, wear a bluetooth!   cant be havin no distractions while you’re stepping over the 4’10” girls for that last zebra clutch.   if its important, they’ll call back.  if they askin u to get something for them, they shoulda gone with you.  

6. make sure u have enough funds.   sounds ridiculous but it happens to the best of us.   u get to the counter and realize u left ur checkbook at home, or you didnt make that transfer from ur savings acct to ur checking acct.   save urself the embarassment and prep before hand + a lil extra JUST IN CASE.  =)

7.  wear ur hair up.   some girls throw elbows.   others pull hair.  im  just sayin. 

8.  tag team it.   if u know anything about basketball,  u know its all about ZONE COVERAGE.   you take the left side, ur bff takes the right.  you take pieces for the both of you and you’re done in half the time…  plus, you have another set of hands should any of you get into an altercation.  lol. 

alright there u go.  on November 14, u can find me in a sleeping bag at the powell st h&m putting these tactics to use.  i plan on putting aside an entire paycheck for these…  trust me when i say THAT SHIT IS MINE.   g’luck ladies! =)

What The Hellz?!

i love surprises.

the UPS guy comes a-knockin at my door this afternoon and has me sign for a package. since i’m not expecting anything, i automatically assume that its for my husband but when i look at the address label, it has my name on it. weird. i see who its from and it says HELLZ BELLZ. whaaat?

i open it and find these goodies! Lawn, you’re the fuckin BEST! Thank you!

See the rest of the collection here. and then check the hellz blog here!   u can shop Hellz at Karmaloop and 80’s Purple. Happy Shopping!

cleanin’ out the closet

this last weekend i did a major cleanup of my closet.  i had so many clothes, it took over my room, the floor, and any empty space it could find. as i was going thru tons and tons and tons of old clothes to try and figure out what to keep, what to toss, and what to put in storage, i found that it was like going thru a photo album.  

i caught myself thinking.. “oh i wore this the night of my birthday.  i dont remember the night but at least i looked cute.”  or “dude, i paired this with those jeans to happy hour with angela.  i miss her.”  and “eww u know whats-her-face has this same top. note to self, never wearing this again”  and even “oh god this still has the tag on it?  why did i even buy this?”

a lot of my clothes indicate the things that were happening in my life, and just about me in general.    i have a thousand and five tunics from my pregnancy days that have actually been useful post-partum.  put a belt on that bitch and the shirt turns into the cutest dress.   lots of knit sweaters from being so cold all the time in the SF fog, even in the summer.  denim thats one size too small but i refuse to get rid of it cuz bitch, i might get skinny again.  lots of florals cuz i swear i’m a hippy.   solid essentials make up the bulk of my closet cuz you can never go wrong with black and white.  and then there are things that blow my mind.   like that dress that makes me look like a farmer.  or that purple lace getup a la 1986 Madonna.   or that top that looks like i bought it at the flea market… or that skirt that looks like a bandeau bra.   WTF was i thinking!?

the funny thing is tho, is that i can remember where i bought these, what i bought it for, who i was with, and where i wore it to.   cuz like music, my clothes take me back to a specific time and place. its like a flashback to a memory and i always end up smiling.  and i think thats why its so hard for me to get rid of shit, cuz i’ve had the best memories in em. 

my husband had to intervene and put my whole “maybe” pile into the “hell no” pile to be sold at buffalo exchange.  (sadness).   and i had to explain to him why i shed a tear for “shit that i’m never gonna wear again”.   [dont ever let your husband decide what gets to go, btw. its a fight waiting to happen].   the whole experience was liberating cuz i feel like i’m starting fresh, and getting rid of the clutter in my closet and in my head and in my life!   cuz now i have the choice and freedom to reinvent my style, and reinvent myself.  not that i want to, but if i did, i’d be able to….cuz my closet is clean.  feel me? 

and even tho im hella butthurt cuz i shoulda kept that one ruffle halter (cuz it would go so good with the skirt i’m wearing today) the good thing is, that now i have extra room for new clothes and new memories.   and did i mention that i get three paychecks in july?  =)   who wants to stimulate the economy with me?  

btw, i ‘m making room for that Hellz Tied Up tank cuz im soooo winning that giveaway.

steph’s closet

ok chickadees….

my oldest and dearest friend, Steph, has ventured out to do something she is passionate about. For the love of everything vintage, i present to you STEPH’S CLOSET.

Here’s an excerpt from her blog, on her beginning…

In a nut shell, this is what I found:
I want my own business – to manage and create an establishment beyond what I ever imagined. I dream to sing, to study music, and to teach it from my soul. To make people feel the words in song different than any other person. I want to have the drive that will achieve my dream and the drive to have a plan to make it all

…THUS I created STEPH’s closet – Vintage clothing selling for cheap…

I know I jumped the gun, skipped a couple of euphoric idea generating moves that eventually got me to start up selling the clothes…BUT basically, this is where it all began. As I sell each piece of clothing, my closet – OR my soul – makes more sense. I have created an experience for my customers that exemplifies key things – personal assistance, unique choice of clothing pertaining specifically to the person, the feeling of friendship and the need to help them feel good about themselves.

I’m in LOVE. And it’s amazing that this is happening.

do not sleep on this one. check her out! she will blow ur mind, make u look fly, and satisfy your soul. this girl is like… chicken soup for my life! love u steph..

***EDITOR’S NOTE*** – wow, this post has only been up for an hour or so and i’ve already gotten so many responses! THANK YOU GUYS!!! here’s Steph’s Closet’s Facebook page. Hit her up here for any requests or questions. She also holds sales out of her closet for now, so if you’re in the Bay.. HOLLA!!!

a woman’s right to shoes

Current mood: fiending for the “new shoe” smell

“you only have 2 feet. why do you need so many shoes?” –daddy

Shoes are not JUST shoes. they are…in 4 words.. sex in a box. Mind numbing, spine tingling, decadent SEX IN A BOX.

i discovered my passion for shoes at an early age..when having my first pair of light-up L.A. Gears made me feel like the flyest, illest, lil girl in the world! Since then i’ve realized that retail therapy really does cure just about anything… (shopaholic to the max i tell u). And throughout my therapy sessions i’m always finding myself more and more in the shoe department. Ive also noticed that upon meeting someone new, i look straight down at their footwear… i’ve lusted after black patent leather, green canvas, yellow polka dots, espadrilles, cork, bows and straps and you can see my conquests in the closet.

plain and simple.. i’m a shoe girl. i aint one of those who will put a 2nd mortgage on my house just to have the latest pair of manolos, but i AM one of those who will buy a pair of shoes that i might never wear “just because.” i believe you can never have too many shoes. EVER. i also believe that your shoes make your entire outfit!!

for example..lets take the simple staple outfit of skinny jeans and a wife beater and go through the shoe choices.

1. flip-flops or gladiators and ur ready to lounge in the backard for a bbq
2. vans (but they look like sneakers) and ur ready to go grocery shopping
3. those dunks that you’ve been eyeing, and lets go to “doin it in the park” this weekend
4. strappy espadrilles and your ready for lunch at your favorite restaurant
5. t-strap peep toes and lets go to the club!
6. knee high boots and ur ready for a night on the fuckin town.

So thats a 6:1 ratio for shoes/clothes. And you need as many shoes as you do moods depending on how you FEEL.. correct!?According to a recent study by ShopSmart magazine, the average American woman owns 19 pairs of shoes, 15% owning 30 or more pairs. 19 pairs of shoes! try 19… times like 25… I got shoes that are just like my “skinny jeans”… just a half size too small, but i wont get rid of em bc they are just waay too fabulous.

so whatever. call it ridiculous. call it an obsession… im a firm believer in a lot of things… one of them being a woman’s right to shoes.

Life is one big road with lots of signs… i would just rather walk through it with a fabulous pair of peep toes on my feet…

the other woman

Current mood: let me smack a bitch

BlackBerry, iPhone, BlackJack, Treo.. whatever their formal names are, they all amount to the same one – “the other woman.”

i know u know damn well what i’m talkin about. u know who u are, and u know what ur problem is. you, or someone you know has a very specific electronic addiction. i aint gonna lie. i do too. the need, desire, and yes.. love for the thing fuels ur very existence. your self-esteem is wired into the 5 inch black hole of hell..

now, i’ve owned a blackberry pearl (damn bbm!), a blackjack II, and now and iPhone.. and really… its my boyfriend. text messages, emails, contacts, my music. navigation at my fingertips, the internet.. myspace… a calendar, notes, pictures, aim, youtube, and games that would keep me entertained for days on end. all of these in one little phone? one gadget about the size of my wallet that my life fits perfectly into.

i remember the days when i used to carry around a walkman (yes, i said a walkman), a pager (doot do do doot do), a pekkle picture wallet (i know u had one too), and a planner. my pager gave way to a star tac cell phone, to bigger and better phones to come (i’ve owned so many its ridiculous. at one point i even had a 2-way. holla back youngin!)… but still, i never felt that my phone was another appendage… until one christmas the husband bought me a crackberry.

do you hear the violins playing?

a blackberry! a handheld computer that doubles as a phone. i discovered blackberry messenger, and once i could get emails in the 2 minutes that you send them.. i was HOOKED. (since then he’s upgraded me to a BlackJack II, and my latest addiction.. the iPhone. [best invention ever.]).

here’s how you know ur addicted to the “other woman” —

1. you sneak around and look @ ur phone every chance u get hoping, praying that someone has messaged you. you matter. you are important, and every message, email, text, mms, and aim is important too.

2. you leave the phone on the table when eating (i just did this shit last night.). u bring it to the bathroom with you.. you jog with that shit in ur hand….

3. you know the distinct sound of an email, voicemail, text, and aim and you can distinguish between the flurry of computer generated music.

*there is no four. thanks for pointing out my dyslexia queen.. *

5. you leave that stupid blinking light on 24/7… its like a lighthouse. a homing beacon.. ET PHONE HOME… check me! check me! check me! shit, even on silent, the bzzzzz scares the dog toward having a mild stroke

6. you no longer look around when walking or driving because ur too busy texting on the damn thing. now i appreciate a good multi tasker, but driving and texting just dont cut it. you ignore whats happening around you, because the world in your phone is just THAT much more important…

7. you start hyperventilating when a.) you cant find your phone. b.) you think its broke or c.) there’s a glitch in the system [who remembers in april when blackberry shut down for 11 hours and everyone went into withdrawal?]

Now, seriously.. its as kawawa as it gets. Being a person who’s addicted, ur like, “whats the big deal?” but being with someone who’s addicted… its gets pretty damn annoying. manners disappear, relationships disappear…. and nothing else matters except for that stupid phone!…

now really, who wants to eat with someone who barely has time to look u in the eye because they playin brickbreaker? who wants to wake up thinking there’s a mouse in the room and then just realize that its really ur partner typing away IN BED!… now i know more than a few people who seriously have thought about leaving their significant other because of the “other woman” addiction…. relationship – done deal! over a phone! this shit is funny but its not… REALLY. so whats the solution? quit with the dependency… cold turkey.

i dont exactly know how to go about doing so without having cold sweats, nervous twitching, and mean withdrawals… but the ultimate goal here.. is to learn how to put the “other woman” down.. and pay attention to the real people in ur life. get outta cyberspace and/or myspace and get into the real space around you…

plain and simple, put the phone down and step away… lets all do it together now… 1..2..3…….

wait, let me just check my email first.