CheapJAP

Cheap JAP 101

I’ve been a total shitshow about posting this week, what with the bed bugs and all. The temporary trauma resulted in a temporary loss of my thrifting mojo, fo sheez. But fear not, chickadees - I prevailed over my paranoia a few days ago via a $7 Theory top at Goodwill (which I plastic-bagged and wash/dried on hot immediately. A necessary exercise for peace of mind or an act symptomatic of a recent germaphobe? Fuck it - at least I’m still shopping).

I’ll be fully back-in-action next week, scout’s honor. I hope you all wear something red, white and ridiculous to your respective July 4th soirees. MWAH.

I Love A Good Story

Reader One-Ups Maharajah of Thrift (a.k.a. ME)

On June 29 at 5:34 PM, Rebecca emailed a post-game analysis of her experience at the latest Housing Works’ Warehouse Sale. Read on to see me get totally SCHOOLED in the art of thrift.

Hi Cheap JAP,

Just wanted to tell you about my finds at my 2nd trip to the Housing Works Warehouse Sale in L.I.C. I got there at 10 and there was a line about 50 people deep. Once in, it was beautiful chaos from the moment I walked in. Items were strewn everywhere, on the floor, on the bins. I found so many great items that I filled 2 bags and therefore spent $40 on all these items, plus some I forgot:

-Suede Armani Collezioni blazer for my father
-Black silk Armani Collezioni tank
-Dana Buchman hooded tweed vest with shearling interior
-Calypso white terrycloth beach cover-up
-Rock and Republic dark skinny jeans
-Helmut Lang jeans- some sort of project will ensue
-Armani Collezioni tweed pants
-Express Black pants
-Velvet long-sleeve tee with pleated collar
-Theory Turtleneck
-2 GAP polos for Dad
-Theory sweater coat w/ original belt still attached
- J & Company studded thermal henley

Those are only some of the amazing finds I found! I was there for over 2 hours and had the best time! Was looking around to spot you but I guess you didn’t make it. All in all a very successful day!

Holy SHITBALLS, Rebecca. This haul doesn’t just prove that your shopping prowess rivals even my own. It makes you a thrifting legend - it’s effing EPIC! Finding stuff for your Dad as well as for yourself was uber-thoughtful too; that’s the kind of move that ensures solid shopping Karma for liiiife.

I’m pissed I didn’t make it to Queens that day, and not just because I missed out on what was obvs one hell of a hunt. What I really regret is not being able to see you in action - it appears I’ve got a thing or two to learn about All-You-Can-Stuff Bag Sales.

Well. Done. You.
MWAH!
Cheap JAP

Excessories

My G.M.’s Old School Ray-Bans

This past weekend, I visited my G.M. (i.e. grandmother - yes, we’re into abbrevs in my family) at her lovely abode in upstate PA, and managed to lose my Ray-Ban aviators en route. She was kind enough to offer a pair on loan for my drive back, and bestowed on me some old school, white-and-gold embellished Ray-Bans of her own.

My lost shades and G.M.’s loaned ones share the same brand. But where originality and overall awesomeness is concerned, there’s just no comparison. Wearing them is an honor that makes losing my own more than worth it. These sunglasses are a one-of-a-kind study in badass eighties ridiculousness; I’m effing obsessed with them already. I donned them yesterday with the below outfit, and got a bunch of weird looks on the street. The denim suspender shorts (Salvation Army, $7) might have had something to do with the what-is-she-WEARING? faces. (I generally respond to said faces by holding up both sides of the following imaginary exchange: What is she wearing? Something cooler than you, you judgey little jackhole).

The Extra-fine Stretch Short Sleeve T-Shirt pictured is Uniqlo - a place I’ve recently come to regard as the Mecca of Material Basics (more on that later).

The tee is priced at $10.50 online but on sale in-store for $7.99… which is why I bought two. Extra-fine, extra-versatile, extra-fabulous.

The total cost of the outfit pictured, then, is technically $15. But the Ray-Bans obvs make it effing priceless.

Sartorial Etiquette

MAILBAG: How The Eff Do I Wear It?!

I’ve been getting a shit ton of Cheap JAPtastic emails from you gals as of late, which is all kinds of awesome. Especially when I get two related queries and one ends up answering another. Tres convenient!

Ankle Boot Angst (Did I really just write that? You know you’ve read too many issues of Lucky when…)
i was wondering what your thoughts are on leather boots in the summer/what to wear with them in general. i have these (frye tina shorty cuff boots).

i love them but i don’t know what to do with them because i’m the least fashionable person ever. i read your blog because the only reason i will ever go shopping is if things are on sale/at the outlets and so i love it/you.

-alyssa

A Vintage Pickle
I have a question about how to style a vintage dress. I bought it awhile ago on Etsy.com and I just absolutely love it. However, I have no idea how to style it.

If you have any suggestions on how to make it look more acceptable for everyday wear, please let me know. I’m also in my mid-20s, and I fear looking too matronly. My ideal balance is classy, but still sexy. The length of the dress falls right to my mid-knee. I’m hesitant for it to go any shorter…

-Deland

Ankle Booties, meet Vintage Dress. Vintage Dress, meet Ankle Booties. Play nice.

I don’t like to play stylist, because I’m of the mind that you gals can and should wear whatever the eff you want to wear as long as you feel great wearing it. There’s my disclaimer. Alas, your emailing efforts require a non-half-assed response, so here we go.

First off, Alyssa: Those booties are KILLER, so enough of this crap about you being the least fashionable person ever. The point of ankle booties, methinks, is to add a degree of badass to whatever you’re wearing. As long as you’re cool with the bare legs and boots combo, I’d def pair ‘em with jean shorts and/or dresses (vintage, or otherwise) in summer. If you’re a shorty like me, keep the hemlines high to avoid any midgetizing effects. And if you’re worried about the slut-factor, opaque, dark tights are an excellent buffer. Straight leg jeans and/or leggings plus ankle booties also equals awesome. If you can embrace the weirdness of this pump/boot fusion and not stress over whether or not you’re stylish enough to pull it off (you are, and anyone who thinks otherwise can go eff off), you’ll eventually come to see these booties as one of the more versatile things you own.

Onto the vintage pickle: Deland, this dress is totally gorge, so well done you. IMHO, hemline surgery is the most effective means of making something more youthful. If you hacked a few inches off this thing, you could go bare legs and flats in summer and/or opaque tights and pumps in winter and never have to worry about the looking-like-a-mom factor. The top part of the dress provides enough coverage to pull off a shorter hem; if the classy/sexy balance is what you seek, I think this is the way to go. (If you’re convinced, get this professionally shortened - it looks waaay too nice to scissor yourself).

If you’re still hesitant, I respect your modesty. Knee-high boots and/or ankle booties are an excellent alternative for modernizing an uber feminine dresses of this ilk. A thick leather belt at the waist might be nice too.

Ladies, best o’ luck with your finds. And thanks mucho for the queries - keep ‘em coming.

MWAH!
Cheap JAP

Cheap JAP 101

Fashion, Bruno, and Karmic Payback

Here at Cheap JAP, we do our best to shop with respect to Karma. For our purposes here, Karma means the odds of us finding fab stuff on the cheap increase in direct proportion to the frequency with which we do the right thing (i.e. allying ourselves with each other in lieu of allying ourselves with trends, money-hemorrhaging, criticism and all the other icky stuff encouraged by our Conde Nasty subscriptions).

If you sow goodness, you will reap goodness; if you sow evil, you will reap evil, say the Vedas. Fashion’s been breaking the law of moral causation since its inception, what with its capitalizing on our insecurities to con us into buying shit we don’t need and all. The fact that making women feel bad about themselves continually nets the Industry a collective chunk o’ change seemingly denotes Fashion as exempt from Karmic payback: Sow evil and you’ll thrive, as long as you’re in vogue. Alas, you can only fuck with the balance of the universe for so long before the universe responds by delivering the perfect antidote to your venomous actions.

By unloading on us its effed up expectations, Fashion ensures that when we look in the mirror, we don’t like what we see. We’re never quite as beautiful or as thin or as youthful or as chic as we think we should be - as Fashion tells us we CAN be. So we go out and buy what it recommends, encouraged at the prospect of feeling a little better about ourselves the next time we look in the mirror. And it doesn’t fucking work. New material crap is a Band-Aid for self-esteem, not a means of achieving it. None of us will EVER be beautiful enough or thin enough or young enough or chic enough to fulfill the glossies’ sartorial ideal. Why? Because the moment we are is the moment we stop giving a shit about what they say.

Fashion’s obsessed with the image aspired to, not to the one that’s actually there. If the Industry saw itself clearly, the curtain would fall and expose the ridiculousness inherent in its notion of itself and the unreality inherent in its idea of how we should look.

That Fashion’s Karmic payback comes in the form of a mirror, then, is more than fitting. Want to know what Fashion REALLY looks like? Meet Bruno, and not just ’cause he’s, like, soooo hot right now.

This overtanned, label-saturated, self-obsessed, syllabant S-swinging fashion journalist is much, much more than another of Sascha Baron Cohen’s hilarious aliases. Bruno’s a living, breathing concentration of Fashion’s utter absurdity, one that makes mockery of the Industry simply by reflecting it back on itself.

We’re all obvs going to see the film and laugh our un-toned asses off. But I think (I hope) we’ll get something more than a chuckle out of Bruno’s antics too.

I hope we’ll take advice from the likes of Karl Lagerfeld (one of Bruno’s most prominent inspirations, obvs) with a grain of salt as massive as he used to be. (Karl, dahlingk, it’s easy to claim that losing weight is as simple as buying smaller sizes and eating less food after GASTRIC BYPASS SURGERY, you hypocritical little shit. Let’s see if you can still say no to those pastries once your stomach inevitably starts to stretch. Perhaps you and your fingerless leather gloves should have taken a grammar course and swallowed a large, low-cal dose of common sense before dispensing sartorial advice to American women in broken English. Just a suggestion).

I hope we’ll stop seeing only what Fashion wants us to see when we look in the mirror; I hope we’ll remember that the sartorial ideal comes in the form of an overtanned, blond-streaked, velcro-jumpsuit clad, uber-flamboyant man.

And I hope we’ll realize that Karma doesn’t give a shit about what’s on the outside - that whether or not ours is good or bad has little to do with how we look in the mirror, and everything to do with how we act away from it.

Kumbaya beotches. Kumbaya.

Oy Vey!

War Report: More Tips on De-Bugification

Firstly, thanks to all who wrote in over the weekend for your sympathetic comments and suggestions re: my bed bug plight. Here’s what I’ve learned thus far:

Tossing thrifted goodies in your freezer to kill any potential bugs sounds like a phenomenal idea, particularly in lieu of Sudoku-ing your way through twelve loads at your local laundromat. Sadly, the requisite temp/time for ensuring blood sucker death is below zero degrees Fahrenheit for one to two weeks, i.e. the average household freezer just won’t cut it. For imminent annihilation, stick with heat. Where hassle-free, quick-kill techniques are concerned, microwaving your material purchases seems like the best option (one I intend to try after my next thrifting excursion).

Good news on the laundry front: All those “clean” clothes you haven’t worn recently don’t need to be washed AND dried. An undisputed study found on Pest Control Technology Online determined that a spin in a hot dryer alone was enough to kill the bugs. They say it only takes five minutes, but that’s in 175-degree heat. I don’t know the specifics of my laundromat’s dryers; if you’re in my boat, I’d recommend a half hour’s worth of quarters.

I’m starting to feel like I’m back in college writing a fucking research paper, so enough of this bug bullshit. Let’s talk some shopping and bash some fashion. Bruno’s up next.

Cheap JAP 101

Don’t Let the Used Clothing Bite (a Cautionary Tale of the Risks of Shopping Thrift)

For the past two years - two years during which I’ve gained the bulk of my thrifting experience - I’ve never had to face the consequences of buying used clothing. I’ve even mocked those who use the you-don’t-know-where-that-shit’s-been argument against shopping secondhand. Alas, when over half of your wardrobe consists of gently-worn wears, it’s only a matter of time before said wears bite you in the ass, among other places. When I awoke yesterday morning scratching the hell out of my back, I knew the jig was up. My fellow New Yorkers already know what I’m about to say, but I’ll spell it out for the benefit of all: I’m talking about those blood-sucking little motherfuckers known as bed bugs, and I got ‘em. Bigtime.

I kept myself busy enough to avoid acknowledging my super creepy plight for the bulk of the day - dealing with a crisis of this magnitude requires multiple shots of tequila at the get-go, and I don’t drink in the morning. It wasn’t until six o’ clock yesterday evening that I called my mom - cocktail in hand - and fucking lost it. I’ve become maniacal about housecleaning since moving to the cesspool of all-things-gross three years ago, and I STILL get bed bugs?! IS THERE NO JUSTICE?! It all seemed spectacularly unfair… that is, until Mom told me the one thing I didn’t want to hear while I was wallowing in self-pity: Sweetie, it’s all those used clothes.

I’m fairly anal about washing whatever I buy secondhand before I wear it, but I’ve neither separated my darks and lights nor used the Hot cycle since the invention of Tide Coldwater Detergent. Unfortunately, one of the only things that kills bed bugs is extreme heat. As I looked at my carefully culled wardrobe, I recalled urban legends of people burning piles of infested clothes to get the bed bugs out and - for the first time ever - regretted my penchant for thrift. I’d staked my entire approach to shopping on the world of the gently-worn, and for what? Re-using old stuff might be good for my budget and for the environment. But if it was perilous to my mental health and physical well-being, was it really worth it?

It was then that I grew angry at the bed bugs. How DARE they make me question my shopping philosophy? Who the eff did they think they were?! These clothes weren’t just clothes - they were triumphs, splurges, stories and memories. These clothes were my fucking happy thoughts, and I wasn’t about to let a few disgusting pests change the way I shopped forever. That their mere existence caused me to doubt my own made my next move abundantly clear: They had to die. Oh sure, they have the advantage of the sneak attack and know how to capitalize on fear. But only one of us knows how to google her way to killing the blood-sucking party. Plus, I’m bigger.

I declared war on my bed bugs with the purchase of Protect-A-Bed Mattress and Box Spring Encasements, and am currently in between trips to the laundromat, washing AND drying everything I own that’s even remotely machine-washable on HOT. If it shrinks, bygones - those little assholes must burn. But what of the Dry Clean Only gems? I wasn’t about to chuck them, but I didn’t want to pay hundreds of dollars to have them sanitized either. I googled again in search of an alternative, one that would de-bug both my room and my more fragile clothing, ultimately ensuring total annihilation. Behold, the power of steam.

Since embarking on this adventure, I’ve learned that steam - when heated to 120 degrees Fahrenheit or more - basically has the power to kill any living thing on any surface… including bed bugs. (Insert evil laugh here). Steam is also the most environmentally friendly means of cleaning in existence, seeing as it uses only tap water. Some Steam Cleaners even come with attachments for sanitizing hanging material like curtains and the Dry Clean Only clothes in your closet. A machine that not only kills the icky stuff on my more delicate thrifted goods but also ensures I will NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR DRY CLEANING AGAIN?! Now THAT’s effing empowering!

I eagerly purchased the Shark SuperSteamer from Kmart earlier today for around forty bucks - it’s a cheapie model, so I’m not sure the terrycloth nozzle attachment intended for curtains will give my Dry-Clean-Onlies a professionally pressed look. But it’ll definitely bomb the buggies with a dose of wet hot death, which is really all I care about at this point. As soon as it’s done charging, it’s Gametime.

In the meantime, let’s talk about what I’m going to do the next time I buy ANYTHING secondhand to ensure that things on par with these blood-sucking little douchenuggets NEVER INVADE MY SPACE AGAIN. I highly recommend you play Monkey See Monkey Do, if only because I seriously wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you went thrifting on my recommendation and ended up bitten. (Obviously, thrifting in the Pest Mecca that is NYC poses the greatest risks. If you do most of your secondhand shopping in Suburbia, you need not be quite as anal, but it’s still important to be germ-and-bug-aware so you can stay germ-and-bug-free. Better safe than sorry, right?).

Bring the Plastic
You know those canvas sustainable shopping bags we all carry around? Ain’t gonna cut it here. Take your gently-worn finds home in plastic bags provided by the secondhand shop. If you wanna be uber green, bring some of the nine thousand you’ve got under your sink (you know, the ones from various drug store and supermarket purchases saved out of guilt) with you on your thrifting excursions. Knot the bag shut before you stash it in a purse or anywhere else.

Bring the Hand Sanitizer
In the purse, always, New Yorker or no. Use it before and after your hunt for the goods. Rub it all over your body after you try anything on (just kidding - that’s the paranoia talking). But for serious: Hands spread 99% of all thangs. Keep ‘em clean and you should be fine.

Bring the Heat
Do not - I repeat, do NOT - remove your goodies from their plastic receptacle until you’re ready to launder them. Do not play show-and-brag with your girlfriends, do not wave them at your significant other as proof that you’re spending less and shopping more, do not photograph them with the tags still on so you can post them to your blog in their original state (that last one’s me talking to myself). The first time you release them from the bag is the first time you dump them into the washer at the start of the HOT cycle. Not warm. HOT.

Bring the Dough for the DCO’s
If there’s anything I’ve learned from laundry mishaps in the past, it’s this: Obey the Dry Clean Only tag. If one of your thriftastic scores bears a tag of the “Dry Clean or Machine Wash Cold/Hang Dry” ilk, common sense necessitates doing only the former. The amount of time, energy and cash you will spend ridding your apt of bed bugs makes ponying up the dough for professional dry cleaning (and/or a Steam Cleaner so you can go DIY fo EVA) more than worth it.

In closing, I’ll say this: Stereotypes are true for a reason, and thrift is no exception. You really don’t know where that shit’s been. I’m not saying this to scare you; I’m saying it because omitting this harrowing tale from my arsenal of thrifting tips would be heinously irresponsible. Thrifting’s a big part of my job, but the average Cheap JAP probs doesn’t encounter used clothing four days a week, multiple times a day. The frequency with which I shop secondhand coupled with my choosing to reside in the nation’s filthiest city makes close encounters of the bed bug kind all but inevitable for me. That doesn’t mean blood-suckers are in the cards for you, so chillax.

This incident might have freaked me out, but it’s not going to stop me from shopping in the most fiscally, socially and environmentally responsible way I know, and it shouldn’t stop you either. Bugs are icky, but paying full retail price for new stuff is even ickier. And as long as we learn from my mistakes and take the necessary precautions in the future, we can avoid both kinds of ickiness altogether, methinks. So let’s keep on truckin’, shall we?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some critters to kill. Wish me luck.

Economic Shitstorm

The Conquest of the Chelsea Salvation Army

To shop the Chelsea Salvation Army is to boldly hunt where few have hunted before. I’m not just talking no dressing rooms. I’m talking visible schmutz all over the floor, pit-stained t-shirts, stinky shoes, et. al. The place exemplifies any and all stigmas associated with thrift; even I’ve been too grossed out to give it a fair go in the past. I swung by last week in part to see if the merch had improved, in part because it was pouring and I’ve taken to protesting my city’s Seattle-esque weather by refusing to carry an umbrella. The storm told me I had at least twenty minutes for browsing; armed with both time and hand sanitizer, I browsed the crap-clad racks once more. Shortly thereafter, lightening begun to strike indoors.

The first shocking bolt came in the form of a Jill Stuart pleated skirt. Say WHAT?!

The discovery propelled me into full-on shopping mode, and I started tearing through the merch like a crazed baboon. Was the skirt a fluke, or material proof that the quality of donations had significantly increased? A Susana Monaco top suggested the latter…

…and the pants section affirmed it in effing spades. Ya-Ya trousers and James jeans. I Shit. You. Not.

To fully appreciate the redonkulousness of these finds, let’s do some price-point comparison. I’m not sure about the Jill Stewart Jeans pleated skirt but (based on the fact that dresses from her high-end line line retail for $500+), I’d guess her “budget-friendly” endeavor charges at least $100 per item. Salvation Army charged $3.99. A breakdown of the remaining items (FYI: the 6/2’s and 6/9’s on some of the tags mark the DATES the items hit the racks and have nothing to do with the prices. The numbers below are real. Very real.):

Susana Monaco Top
Average Retail: $110. Salvation Army: $4.00.

Ya-Ya Pants
Average Retail: $150. Salvation Army: $7.99.

James Jeans
Average Retail: $175. Salvation Army: $5.99.

Note: All items underwent extensive scanning for stains, tears, missing buttons and/or ickiness of any kind and passed pre-purchase. Said were taken directly to laundromat for sterilization purposes post-photo shoot.

It was still raining when I left the store that day, but it was 75 and sunny as far as I was concerned. Nothing, NOTHING, could kill my buzz. Ahh, the emotionally transformative power of labels snagged for a fraction of their retail price. Loves it.

Sartorial Etiquette

Sharesies! Ralph Lauren Black Label At…Marshalls?!

I found this Ralph Lauren *Black Label* (ahh) orange linen crop jacket at a Marshalls in the middle of nowhere for… $15 on clearance. It had to be a mistake because the retail price on the RL tags were $1,095 and it was in perfect condition. That means I basically got this jacket for 99% off. I don’t really know how I’ll wear it yet because it’s a bright red orange, but I just couldn’t pass it up!

Lurking nearby was another Black Label masterpiece, a black velvet strapless cocktail dress with a bubble skirt. Unfortunately it was still priced at $200 but I’ll be checking up on it frequently. Eek wish me luck.
-S

Black Label at Marshalls for $15? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?! This stunner of a jacket’s more than a bonafide score - it’s an effing INSPIRING find! Don’t stress about the color; just go neutral on bottom (this would be KILLER with white jeans, methinks). I’m bright green with envy. Also very, very proud. Well done you!

Oooh, and do keep us posted on that cocktail dress.

Splurgy Poo

Badass Flats, No Band-Aids Required

My Greenwich Village hood can be perilous to those shopping on a budget. Particularly when a stroll down your block puts you directly on West 8th Street between 6th Avenue South and Fifth Avenue, smack dab in the middle of fifteen or so shoe stores. Es problemo.

To be fair, I’d been looking for a new pair of flat sandals at the time I fell victim to one of these stores. That uber fab Payless pair might not look cheap, but where comfort’s concerned, sometimes you get what you pay for - let’s just say the breaking-in process required no small amount of Band-Aid Thickstrips. While they’re finally wearable sans blisters, I *needed* something in a more versatile color (for me, that means black) that wouldn’t butcher my feet at the get-go. Enter the Kelsi Dagger Dafne T-Strap Sandal.

These puppies cost $108 (ish) i.e. a number I loathe spending on only one item. Alas, when the sales dude asked if I wanted to try them on, instincts trumped common sense and a resounding YES followed. Gladiator Sandals often have the unfortunate effect of shortening my already short-legs, yet these had zero midgetizing effects. I was also nuts about the oversize grommet detail, as badass flats are few and far between.

Still, I searched for reasons to say no, and thought I’d be able to when the size 6 proved too small and the size 7 too big. The strap on the sevens just needs to be tightened - I can poke a few holes in the leather so you can adjust them to fit, said the sales dude of my issue. Doneskies. Granted, I did a walk up and down the block in an attempt to find something less expensive of the same caliber before I fully committed, but commit I did.

In the week since their purchase, my Kelsi Daggers have been worn daily and required zero Band-Aids (they’re THAT well-made). The sandals have also netted me a slew of unsolicited compliments from total strangers, one of which was from a fellow Jersey girl and as such, particularly memorable. Who knew we could be so nice?!

Love With Hate Icing, Sartorial Etiquette

MAILBAG: Goodwill Gets All Uppity

On Friday, 6/19, @ 2:41 PM, Jen emailed:

I was inspired by what you wrote about Karma, especially when it means possible stellar shopping in the future and helping out a friend. I don’t know if you’ll be interested in this, but I sure was, and if not maybe you could post the tip so someone can score it.

I saw a seriously GORGEOUS black leather satchel in the window*. I went to look and found out it was Coach (yum) and looked to be in great condition. Unfortunately the sales lady snapped at me before I could do a full inspection…when I asked if I could buy it she told me that window display items don’t go on sale until Friday (what’s the freak?). Well, today is Friday, and I thought MAYBE I could make it back to NYC to get it, but alas, the shopping gods were not with me on this one. So I’m hoping that you Cheap JAP, or another Cheap JAP in training, can have it…I mean we all have to stick together with these kinds of deals.

The lady told me it was $35…which is slightly pricey but in my opinion the item was wahayy worth it. It looks quite similar to this purse…

…I thought a fellow lover of all things handbag and leather would want to know. Hope your wallet and shopping bag stay full!

(*Goodwill’s Upper West Side location)

Firstly, a note to Goodwill: Being written up in the Times doesn’t mean you suddenly get to act like a high-end boutique. We don’t shop you because you’re attractive; we shop you because you’re cheap. You want to keep doing well in this recession? Stop farting around with window displays, start working on those people skills, and don’t forget that who keeps you in business isn’t a trophy wife slummin’ it for kicks - it’s those of us who can’t afford to shop where she usually shops. If one of your regular customers wants the handbag in the window, and the handbag in the window isn’t technically available until Friday, you do not deny her request - this isn’t fucking Bergdorf Goodman. You swap out the item for something else, thank her for her business and send her on her merry way, because the customer is always right.

If Jen’s story were written in children’s book form, it’d look something like this: Girl finds handbag. Girl loves handbag. Girl can actually afford handbag. Girl not allowed to purchase handbag; saleswoman is bitch. Girl tells other girls about handbag so they can have what she can’t.

The conclusion of this story is one of the warmer, fuzzier things I’ve ever read…so why didn’t I post the tip, as per Jen’s request? The way I see it, any girl who selflessly shares info of this kind - who tips off her fellow shoppers in lieu of competing with them - truly deserves the bag she wasn’t allowed to buy. So, upon receiving this email last Friday afternoon, I hit the Upper West Side Goodwill in an attempt to remedy this situation: I figured I’d buy the bag for Jen on the off-chance it was still there, and have her reimburse me for it on her next shopping trip into the city (this is Cheap JAP, after all ;))

Me: Hi! I’m looking for a black Coach bag a friend of mine saw in your window display earlier this week.
Goodwill: Oh noooo. We sold that early this morning.
Me: Are you sure it was the same bag? Did it look like this one? (showing pic sent by Jen of similar-looking bag in red)
Goodwill: Was it this one here? (showing disgusting-looking, no-name maroon messenger bag)
Me: No. It looked like this picture, but it’s Coach.
Goodwill: Red or black?
Me: BLACK.
Goodwill: I TOLD you, we SOLD it already. Someone else got here first.
Me: Well, technically, my friend got here first, but was told she couldn’t buy it until Friday.
Goodwill: Well, nothing in the window goes on sale until Friday.
Me: That’s a shame, don’t you think?
Goodwill: (Icy glare).

I’m fairly sure Jen and I encountered the same saleswoman, based on the above interaction. Thankfully, what goes around comes around, which means a better bag from a less asshole-ish Goodwill branch is certainly in the cards for her.

A big fat kudos to Jen for her good deed - I hope your wallet and shopping bag stay full too, dollface.

DIY Dallying

Would I Pay To Have Something Tailored? Puhlease.

It’s Arts and Farts and Crafts time! Today’s lesson: How to “take in” an oversize blazer using scissors, hot glue, and random excess material (snipped from the maroon pseudo-gown discussed previously). If it sounds ludicrous, that’s because it is: No gal in her right mind would touch a Piazza Sempione Blazer with anything sharp or hot. Unless said blazer was purchased at Housing Works’ latest All-You-Can-Stuff Bag Sale as part of a $20 haul, in which case, anything goes.

Whilst swimming in the blazer (see Before pic at left), I briefly considered professional tailoring…until I realized it would probs cost ten times what I paid for the thing. Fuhgettaboutit. Here’s what I did instead.

The Cheap JAP’s Guide to the Two Poke Tie
(Diagrammed drawings courtesy of author - shield eyes if need be).
Step 1: Lay open blazer on flat surface, button-side down. Flatten back torso portion of blazer as much as possible. About halfway down the back of the blazer, using the point of a pair of scissors and/or other preferred poking tool, make one hole slightly to the left of the center of the back. Repeat, poking second hole slightly to the right of the center of the back, leaving three or more inches in between two holes, depending on how much cinching blazer requires. (Think driving directions. Your holes should bear left and right of the center of the blazer, if that makes any sense.)

Step 2: Get your hands on some ribbon or imitation thereof (read: any piece of material cut to resemble a ribbon, two inches max in width). You’ll need one piece, anywhere from 12-24 inches in length, depending on how big you like your bows. When in doubt, longer is better - you can hack off the excess later. From the INSIDE of the blazer, thread each end of the ribbon through its corresponding holes. If the end result looks like the top part of a laced sneaker from the outside of the blazer, you’ve done it backwards (I’m slightly dyslexic, so I’ve totally been there). The ribbon ends should be visible on the blazer’s exterior, like so:

Step 3: Put blazer on. Button however many buttons you usually button when wearing blazers (I’m a top-one-only kind of gal, but to each her own). Tying the ends of a ribbon into a bow around the back requires some maneuvering; if you’re lacking in arm flexibility and/or do not possess the skills to tie a blind bow, have whoever usually zips you into a dress do it for you. The final project should look something like this:

What, it’s tough to visualize via my shitty drawings? Pfft. Fine.

Step Four (Optional): Using the same material as the bow, make cut outs in shape of front pocket flaps. Bust out the hot glue gun and stick ‘em on. This is by no means mandatory - merely a means of keeping the DIY theme continual throughout the blazer.

Now, for the big reveal…

Behold, the magic of scissors and glue.

You know me - anything to avoid sewing at all costs.

DIY Dallying

Playtime With Well-Priced Vintage

Remember my claim that I figured out how to wear those slips from No Relation Vintage as non-underwear?

I hiked the longer cream one up over the boob-line, layered the black skirt-slip underneath, and used a stretchy belt thing to give the whole shebang some shape. Insta-tube dress accomplished.

Now, let’s discuss this shiny maroon pseudo-gown, also snagged at No Relation (ten bucks). If you know me at all, you know I hacked the thing into a mini.

With a thick gold cuff (Urban Outfitters, like five years ago) and a cheapie chain belt (probs previously attached to something I bought at Forever 21), it’s a little bit of disco and a whole lot of awesome. And when you see what I did with the excess material, you will Flip. Your. Shits (in a good way, obvs).

Be excited. Be very excited.

Oy Vey!

Design Editions Just Another Name For Collaborative Crap

This week marked the launch of Alexander Wang and Vena Cava for GAP Design Editions, so I figured I’d hit the 54th Street location to see what all the fuss was about. Trying some stuff on (and surreptitiously snapping pics in the dressing room, natch) gave me a better idea. Where dresses and outerwear are concerned, the hype surrounding these collections seemed legit enough.

I seriously dug Wang’s khaki bomber jacket, and found Vena Cava’s dresses equally well-made and flattering. The pockets nearly won me over.

But the bottoms. Sweet Jesus, the bottoms.

The Vena Cava slim-fit pant was all kinds of icky for many reasons. The waist hit directly at the belly-button, which meant muffin top for anyone with even the slightest amount of tummy pudge. The crotch made the risk of camel-toe palpable. And the designer’s name scrawled in various places on the legs seemed excessive, as did the purposeless ankle zippers.

Where Wang’s pleated number’s concerned, I have two words for you: Diaper shorts.

Onto the price points. In comparison with a $795 Velvet Motorcycle Jacket, an $88 khaki bomber is reasonable enough. Ditto for an $88 dress in comparison with its $500 high-end counterparts.

Alas, eighty eight is a number I reserve for items like shoes. Not an amount to be spent on something from the GAP, particularly if everyone and their Mom is going to be wearing it. Thanks, but no thanks.

Cheap JAP 101

Sheer Dress, Super Solutions!

Mmkay, now for the full deets on the exciting slip + transparent Theory dress equation that ultimately solved my Sheer Conundrum. A black underwire bra didn’t cut it for coverage up top: Enter the American Apparel Ruched Tube Bandeau.

The chiffon of the dress sagged a bit at the armpits; this was remedied by tying the straps around the back of my neck with some ribbon (polka-dot, for kicks).

Add the black slip-skirt….

….and BAM! That’s Look One.

When worn at the waist, the hem of the cream skirt-slip fell to the ankle. A full four inches of additional material looked a bit silly with the calf-length dress. Also, have you ever known me to ADD LENGTH to anything I’ve worn? I don’t THINK so. As far as I’m concerned, Hemline Surgery goes in one direction only: Up. Thankfully, the waist of the cream slip was elasticky enough to be pulled over the torso and worn as a tube dress under its sheer counterpart.

And BAM! That’s Look Two.

Doesn’t the second look seem like a totally different dress? (Yes, it does - that was a rhetorical question). Loves it!

Cheap JAP 101

A Sheer Conundrum Of A Dress

This Theory Dress (another winner from Buffalo Exchange) retailed for at least $200, once upon a time. I got it for $32.50, NBD.

The cut’s seriously classy, but the coverage? Hellooooo lingerie. Opaque tights did nada to temper the sheer-factor: If this dress was ever going to see the light of day, it needed a slip. Unintended purchases necessary for the wearing of a particular item bug the shit out of me, but that’s neither here nor there.

Shortly after finding myself in this pickle, I visited No Relation Vintage to see if its reputation as a reasonably-priced option for clothes from another time was legit. (Affirmative - it actually doesn’t pull the same crap as other stores of its ilk, i.e. overcharge for old stuff). In addition to about nine thousand pilled t-shirts, I was gleeful to find a solid selection of slips, two of which I snagged for eight bucks each.

When paired with the dress, both slips provided excellent coverage, and that’s not all. I figured out how to wear them as non-undergarments too! (It’s not even that slutty. I mean, for me.) Stay tuned for pics.

Label Whore

Why Brands For Brands’ Sake Have No Place In Your Closet

I committed a crazed act of rebellion yesterday. To grasp the full weight of said act requires a brief conceptual review of what defines a Label Whore, so let’s discuss. Label Whores buy brands for brands’ sake. When you equate a garment’s label with said garment looking good on you, it’s only a matter of time before you slap down a credit card for a $300 top you wear NEVER. In your closet it sits unworn for months, possibly years. You still love the brand, but you eventually come to hate that fucking top. Yet in your closet it stays; as long as it’s there, you’re able to delude yourself into thinking you’ll wear it someday, that it will become something other than a material reminder of wasted cha-ching. It is faaaahbulous on the hanger, after all.

In theory, I’m against buying brands for brands’ sake. The only barometer for whether or not something’s worth buying is whether or not you look and feel fabulous wearing it - at least, that’s what I preach. It’s not necessarily what I practice. Case(s)-in-point: These two designer dresses.

The polka-dot mini number is Gianfranco Ferre; a brand whose dresses retail for approximately $1000. This one - at around $500 - was a very generous gift from my mother, given to me only because I was too blinded by the brand to see the dress for what it was: Way. Too. Short. I donned it for a sorority formal in 2003, felt more slutty than sexy in it, and it’s been sitting in my closet ever since.

The Diane von Furstenberg number was purchased a year ago at full retail price ($380) and also the result of parental charity. In my defense, I repeatedly told my mother not to buy it on the grounds of it being about as comfortable as a sausage casing. She insisted, assuring me I’d wear it someday; in the year since, I’ve certainly tried. It’s just that every time I’d put on the dress, things like breathing and walking became challenging. I’d waddle around in it, wheezing all the way and after ten minutes or so, unzip my way to freedom in disgust.

And so yesterday, I took a stand against holding onto brands for brands’ sake. I sold these two uber high-end dresses to Buffalo Exchange. They didn’t price them at anywhere near their original worth ($26 for the Ferre, $32 for the DVF), and I was more than okay with that; their tendency to lowball means I can actually afford their merch. Particularly when I have store credit to burn.

Ridding my closet of these dresses was more than an exercise of practicing what I preach. This act of rebellion against my inner Label Whore was a necessary contribution to the glorious world of re-sale, one that gives my fellow shoppers the chance to enjoy what I couldn’t. Karma, baby. Karma.

Nifty Thrifty

More Bag Sale Booty

When I found this shirt at Housing Works’ Latest Bag Sale, I seized it for its color and satin-esque material. It wasn’t until I tried it on post-dry cleaning that I realized the fringe presented a big problemo. I hacked away the offending material with scissors and cinched it around the waist for shape - crisis averted.

I like it tied over a wifebeater.

But I loooove it under the Banana Republic blazer I’ve been living in as of late (ALSO scored at the bag sale. I know, I hate me too ;).

I Love A Good Story

Sharesies! LeSportsac at Le Buffalo

Our Sharesies! of the day comes from Joyce, who recently experienced the awesomeness that is the Buy-Sell-Trade, and was kind enough to provide a photo of her find.

Because of your blog, I went to Buffalo Exchange and scored a cute LeSportsac 7507 everyday bag for $14! Normally, it retails for seventy plus bucks so this is great. Bonus - it’s the real deal and looks brand new.

Yaay! Joyce also made the right call on a tempting brandtastic dress:

PS: I keep trying on their dresses in the hope of finding something. I found one Ella Moss dress that was cute but upon further inspection,
I found two snags/holes on the dress - in the front - which made me put it back. It was so comfy/cute that I almost got it but the potential for further damage made me think twice.

Well played. It’s uber frustrating to finally find something that fits and looks fab, only to have your hopes dashed by holes and snags. Joyce, rest assured that a better dress in better condition is on the horizon. I have a sixth sense about these things.

Love With Hate Icing

For Straw Fedoras, Vintage Not Entirely Worthless

I have what some might consider to be an abnormally small head. Every summer, I think maybe, just maybe, I’ll find one of those cheapie straw fedoras on the street that actually fits. No dice, for three years in a row now. I knew I’d need to bite the bullet for a hat that wasn’t one-size-fits-all. But if I was paying more than $10, I wasn’t about to spend it on a mass-produced copy of celebutard millinery. I didn’t want to blow $346 on an effing straw hat either.

I have a tendency to knock Vintage where clothing’s concerned but I find it an excellent option for hats of the original, not-a-total-rip-off ilk. So the fact that I purchased my straw fedora at the notoriously overpriced beacon of Vintage bologna, aka Zachary’s Smile, only makes me a partial hypocrite. I saw it in the window, immediately fell in love with it and was gleeful to find upon trying it on that it actually fit my tiny noggin. At $45, it wasn’t cheap by my standards. But seeing as I’ve worn it every day since acquiring it a week ago, it’s proven a worthy mini-splurge. Yaay.