CheapJAP

Economic Shitstorm

Old Habits Die Hard Or Not At All

Ahh, December 31st. An eve where we vow to be better, more responsible people and seal the deal with all those toxins we’re soooo not consuming in abundance next year, and then proceed to crash without taking off our eye make-up and stumble out of bed the next morning toward a greasy brunch intended to settle our still-liquor saturated tummies (totally acceptable because our diet doesn’t really start until the second - phew). Later, we’ll spiral into a web of self-loathing at last night’s regrettable behavior, a horrific guilt balloon that can only be popped via stiff martini at the day’s end. Resolutions, indeed. Let’s not forget that when Mimi sang “It’s Gonna Be A Happy New Year” alongside her fellow we’re-not-gonna-pay-RENTers, she did so while on the hunt for her crack dealer. In the words of the wisest waiter I’ve ever worked alongside: Same shit, different shovel. And this brings us to Vou…Voug…It That Shall Not Be Named!

The January cover of Vogue boasts Cheap & Chic ways to look fabulous whilst enduring this tres DRAG of a recession. One would think that the mag that put the Eff in Fashion could come up with a less exhausted phrase for our oh-fuck-we-can’t-spend-money-on-designer-shit-now-what era, but I digress. Let’s see what pearls of wisdom Anna & Co. have to offer this time around, shall we?

Shop Sustainably*
You mean like carry an easy-to-fold canvas tote in my purse so I can use it for groceries and stuff? Ha. HA. Canvas - how plebeian! Why not try leather, specifically Chanel’s distinctive leather tote, instead? I don’t know, assbags: Maybe because it’s $1,525 plus-tax.

Pile It On
“It” being neon, sparkly Missoni bangles that retail for $150 - $500, give or take. I’m down with mismatched accessories. What I’m not down with is ludicrously expensive plastic and/or privileged spawns of designers who masquerade as such by wearing Grandmommies’s dresses to really cool parties with really cool people. Talent ain’t always hereditary, dollfaces.

Tighten Your Belt (or something to do with belts or waists - I obvs disposed of the tome in disgust post-read and now can’t recall the exact phraseology)
This tip implies spending less money, but the belt referenced isn’t one you already own; it’s a Marc Jacobs metallic wrap-around number that retails for over $600, if memory serves. A trendy excessory that costs more than a handbag. Awesome job, ladies. Awesome job.

Other offending suggestions include, but are not limited to: $800 laptop bags, $1200 pendants - because organization and accessories never go out of style or something - and, my personal favorite, a Lanvin Orange Patent Leather Sneaker as a $695 way to “Improve Your Carbon Footprint.” It’s chemically-altered leather, for fuck’s sake.

Vogue’s continual failure to grasp the concept of Practical Fashion once worked to their advantage, but as of late, it’s rendered the publication increasingly ridiculous. Version 2009 looks a whole lot like version 2008.

Same shit. Different shovel.

*Shop Sustainably…hmm. Sounds remarkably similar to Sustainable Shopping, no? Methinks you whoreface editrixes over at Conde Nasty might be reading my bloggy on the sly, what with the ill-disguised phrase poaching and all. I’m usually a very giving person, but the buck stops with you. The age of Fashion is over. The time of the Cheap JAP has come. (Yes, that’s a Lord of the Rings reference. If you thought I was cool before…)

Economic Shitstorm

The Goliath of Goodwills Versus…ME.

En route from my tailor the other day, strutting down Flatbush Avenue Ext., I stumbled across the biggest Goodwill I have ever seen. As I assessed the interior, I was overwhelmed by a mixture of awe, trepidation and nausea not unlike what I experienced on my last trip to Century 21. If I couldn’t find something, ANYTHING, in this vast, Motley Crue of castoffs, it would call the entirety of my secondhand shopping prowess into question, and that was sooo not happening. So I put on my headphones, got in the zone and - to the tune of Feed the Animals - tackled the place rack by rack.

Looks like two pairs of colored jeans and a patterned dress, right? WRONG. So effing wrong. Drum roll, please.

Marc Jacobs, Built by Wendy and Lily Pulitzer, respectively. ‘Nuff said.

I’m well aware that scoring at Salvation Army and/or Goodwill is rare; the bigger the outlet, the harder it gets. The only reason I uncover the pearls in these seas of fugliness, time and time again, is practice. While I neither expect nor recommend that you spend as much time in the field as I do, one hour per week going through the racks at your resident beacon of charity castoffs does wonders for your shopping skillz. Slowly back away from The Hills (that’s what DVR is for!), get your ass off the couch, and give it a whirl. Seek and ye shall find, young Skywalkers. Seek and ye shall find.

Economic Shitstorm

Ra Ra ReSale! The Buff Bandwagon.

For those not in the know, Buffalo Exchange is basically an amped up, national version of Beacon’s Closet. It’s taken me this long to jump on the Buff Bandwagon because, until recently, their only NYC Metro Area store was in the Other Brooklyn, aka Williamsburg. While I’ve built up a tolerance to oversized, clear-lense glasses (and to those fun judge-y glares behind them…I will not hate hipsters I will not hate hipsters…), I start to lose it once the two-hour mark hits, and it takes that long just to sift through the disorganized shitshow that is Buff Exchange Brooklyn. After a few visits to the new East Village location, however, I can confidently say I am hooked for LIFE.

This is not to imply that the overall experience was without its snags. I’d arrived with two bags of mine and my mother’s un-worn and/or gently-used castoffs, anticipating substantial store credit in exchange. The buyer assessed me goods and deemed approximately one fourth of them worthy of Buff Exchange’s racks. ONE FOURTH?! My stuff was as good, if not better, than almost everything they sold. What the eff was going on? The wardrobe-related insecurity all over my face didn’t go unnoticed by the buyer, who responded with a surprisingly sympathetic look. “Your stuff’s great…it’s not that…it’s…” I felt like we were breaking up. She leaned in closer. “It’s that we’re, well…overstocked.”

Overstocked. This meant sellers like me were taking the 30% cash option instead of the 50% store credit option. I was open-minded about those of the clothes-for-cash ilk until I realized that their selling for cash fucks with my ability to sell for store credit. SO NOT OKAY.

Let’s explore this logically: If Buff Exchange buys clothes from you - clothes you’ve previously purchased and worn - there is a better-than-good chance that their racks offer wares in sync with your taste. Say they take $100 worth of stuff off your hands and you get $50 in store credit or $30 in cash and take the cash option. Know what inevitably happens to that cash? You spend it all and then some on an H&M dress. Buff Exchange has H&M dresses too…and Alice and Olivia and Castle Starr and Banana Republic and Nanette Lepore and Diesel. I saw a navy Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress for $28; I had to touch it to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

Buff Exchange and stores of its ilk have a great thing going, but they can’t stay in business if you’re too chicken shit to sift through the racks. I watched their staff sort through six other people’s bags before mine, and hot damn! are they meticulous: No missing buttons, screwy zippers, pit stains, unintentional tears or funky smells allowed. Everything on those racks is almost-new or close to it. Nothing is going to bite you. Yes, it’s a little more work to find things here than in a fast-fashion chain, but you’ve got a little more money to spend; that makes it more than a fair trade. Buck up, and buy back from the place that’s so generously enabled you to unload some of your castoffs in a fiscally and environmentally responsible way. Or I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too, for effing it up for the rest of us.

(Get ready to FLIP OUT when you see what my $45 in store credit got me. EEK!)

Economic Shitstorm

From NAYs to eBay

Mmkay. A superficial glance at the pictured items suggests that I’m nuts for giving them the heave-ho; I’m well aware. Here’s the piece-by-piece breakdown of why they’ve gotta go.

Cream-and-Beige Shoshanna Toile Dress - I had no idea that toile was a print WASPier than Lily when I bought this dress eight years ago. I wore it to my boarding school graduation, my brother’s boarding school graduation, and never again.
Cranberry Tocca Silk Party Dress - Totally gorge, right? Obvs. And every time I put it on, I feel like a Mom. It’s been too mature for me since I bought it five years ago; if growing up means longer hemlines, fuhgettaboutit.
Moschino Black Jersey Dress w/ Ruffle Detail - Worn on many monumental occasions; sorority rush, meeting my college boyfriend’s parents, etc. The dress is still fab; it’s just not my style anymore (i.e. it’s calf-length. Come ON).

Elie Tahari Pinstriped Pantsuit - I know, I know, it’s a staple, it’s versatile, it’s in excellent condition, blahbbity blah. It also bores me to tears. Last year, I wore this $500 suit to temple for Rosh Hashanah: For the same occasion this year, I wore a seven dollar skirt from Target. Guess which look got better reviews.
Cole Haan Collection Gold Stiletto Sandals w/ Fringe detail - These are the shoes that made me pledge to neither buy nor wear a stiletto heel ever again. I’m still traumatized by the lingering blisters, bruises and limping symptomatic of an evening spent in sandals such as these.
Tory Burch Ponyhair Flats - A present from Mom last Hannukah. So fab. And so obviously not me. (See Shoshanna dress).

Let’s see if eBay nets me some cash for my castoffs. Stay tuned.

Economic Shitstorm

Wardrobe Bitchslap: Steps 1, 2

To refresh: The Closeto Principle states that 80% of our outfits come from 20% of our clothes. Here’s how to sift through the shit to find the stuff that’s the SHIZNAT.

Disclaimer: If the words pack rat, sentimental and/or greedy apply to you, embark on this process with a friend whose opinion you trust and whose spending habits and personal style you admire.

1. Get it OUT.
All of it. I’m not effing around. Remove EVERY SINGLE PIECE of clothing from your closet. I don’t care if it’s an American Apparel tee or a Diane von Furstenberg frock. I don’t care if it’s a pair of slacks you haven’t seen in years or those leggings you wear 24/7. Out of the closet and onto the floor it goes. Successful execution of Step 1 should result in a massive, disorganized pile of crap. Read on.

2. Yay, Nay, Oy Vey; Repeat.
Every single item in your wardrobe falls into one of the following three categories.
YAY! (yes): Your fave pair(s) of jeans; your go-to LBD; that linen blazer you can’t wait to bust out each spring; those camis you wear under everything you own. The stuff you LOVE not for its brand or because it’s, like, so Now, but because it makes you feel fab every time you put it on. YAY.

NAY! (no): Anything you haven’t worn in six months. Anything that makes you feel fugly, fat or flat-chested. Anything appropriate for a costume or theme party and no other occasion. Anything you’ve been saving for your BFF/sister/daughter/niece. Anything you’re keeping around only to rationalize how much money you wasted on it. NAY.
*Don’t flip out - we’re not donating or trashing all this stuff, stupidhead. We’re just getting it out of YOUR closet because YOU aren’t wearing it. Mmkay?

OY VEY! (maybe): A shapeless cashmere sweater; an accidentally-shrunken shirt; a designer suit too dressy for the office; a pair of stilettos too painful to walk in; a baggy dress; your ’skinny’ jeans; all that shit you haven’t let go of because it’s a brand, really pretty and/or invokes nostalgia; anything you have ANY doubts about tossing OR keeping for whatever reason. OY VEY.

After you’ve sorted every single item in your closet into one of these three piles, you’ll likely have a little YAY, a little NAY, and a whole lot of OY VEY.

To be continued…

Economic Shitstorm

How To: Sell Your Old Clothes

Most people donate the clothes they no longer wear. (By “donate,” I do NOT mean take out with the trash. Don’t add to the dumpster heap that is our earth, fools). That’s the obvious, socially and environmentally responsible, post-closet purge choice. Being an inherently selfish person, I prefer to sell my duds to Beacon’s Closet for cash or store credit instead.

Beacon’s isn’t as discerning as your standard Consignment shop, but they still continually neg some of my thangs. Should you choose to sell (at Beacon’s or elsewhere), use the following guidelines to filter your castoffs:

1. The Gently Worn Factor: No rips, pilling or pitstains.

2. The Brand Factor: For thrift stores, it doesn’t matter if it’s Theory or Forever 21 - if the tag is recognizable, it’s got a better shot of selling. Consignment and/or designer re-sale shops (really, does anyone know the difference?) are considerably snootier. So unless you’ve got a Marc Jacobs blazer you’re sick of (like that’s even humanly possible), I’m not making any promises.

3. The Seasonal Factor: Do you buy linen in winter? Neither do the stores you’re selling to. Just omit the obvious stuff - no flannel button downs if it’s summer, no sarongs if it’s as effing freezing out as it is today.

I obvs filter effectively to maximize what Beacon’s takes off my hands. This time around, they priced my wares at $123.55. In exchange, I got 55% of that number in store credit - $67.95 worth of thriftastic treasures. I could have taken 35% in cash ($43.24), but that would have been stupid. My store credit resulted in…

…an uber-girly, white ruffled top ($14.95); a slightly ridiculous (let’s just say avante garde), light blue, puffy-sleeved blouse; a pair of legwarmers (Foot Traffic, $12), and, drumroll please…

…a STELLAR pair of Olsen Haus pumps. I’d be totally on board with the Vegan shoe thing if green brands like Olsen Haus didn’t retail for around $225. Are you effing kidding me?! It’s not even leather!

Whatevs Olsen, I got your overpriced plastic for $19.95. HA.

My haul came to $62.85 of my store credit. To sum up: I got rid of old clothes AND bought new ones with ZERO dollars of my own money. How d’ya like them apples?!

*See this nationwide Consignment/Thrift Stores Directory so you too can reap the benefits of cleaning your closet.

Economic Shitstorm

The Top Five Lamest Excuses to Not Shop at Goodwill

Every girl loves a bargain; it should logically follow that every girl frequents her local Goodwill (and/or Salvation Army) in search of the best deals in fashion. Unfortunately, we’re used to shiny, new shit. So we’ve got an arsenal of excuses as to why we don’t patronize these beacons of thrift. And they’re all worthless and weak. (Now drop and give me twenty!).
“They don’t have the brands I like.”
Really. So you don’t like Laundry, Tahari, Bebe, Club Monaco, J.Crew, Banana Republic, GAP, H&M, BCBG, et. al? How bout this Intermix top that cost me six dollars? Goodwill’s got brands to burn - you just gotta look, lazy face. The fact that my Goodwill’s in NYC doesn’t necessarily mean it has a better selection than yours; New York is home to the savviest of stylemongers, so you can bet my finds have already been picked through by other beotches. And I STILL score.

“I mean, those are, like, other people’s clothes.”
No shit Sherlock. Lots of you who won’t deign to shop at Goodwill either have or would donate your old clothes to the same place. Wouldn’t people be lucky to buy and wear the fab stuff you’ve tired of? I thought so. Yes, there’s an abundance of worn-out, fugly apparel. But there’s also tons of clothing about as worn-in as - and I’m projecting here - that pricey, going-out top you *needed* that still has its tags. (We all have that top, btw ;).

“It’s too disorganized for me to find anything.”
Okay, I kind of feel you on this. Kind of. Goodwill doesn’t care if you’re a Forever 21 or a Juicy Couture or a Theory - you’re all going to hang together in harmony, regardless of where you came from or what you originally cost. And in this way, it’s the great equalizer of all things Fashion. Being forced to sift through things not according to trend or brand but according to category and color illuminates something the Industry banks on you never realizing: It’s all just stuff. In one world, it’s a pastel, cable-knit, Theory sweater. In another, it’s just a pink top. And it’s in the pink top section with all the other pink tops.
Continue reading →

Economic Shitstorm

Leather, Recycled and Re-born!

My cobbler did a pretty kickass job resurrecting my destroyed leather goodies. Some Before and After pics, as proof:

Dr. Cobbler didn’t just fix the strap on my broken Botkier.

He reinforced every loose thread on the thing. He also re-heeled my gnarled Aldo motorcycle boots, like whoa. They’re totally good as new!

The salvation of my Botkier and boots cost me $25 and $35, respectively. So basically, I got a $550 handbag and a $120 pair of shoes for the bargain price of $60. It just doesn’t get much better than that.

Economic Shitstorm

No Sale For You!

I was jaunting around Soho yesterday, window shopping after my triumphant Uniqlo experience, and found myself wanting to enter every single store I passed. It wasn’t the merchandise. It was those goddamn SALE signs.

Where fashion’s concerned, there’s only one Sin City. New York is the late-night slice, the one-more drink, the bummed cigarette and the one-night stand of shopping. It’s where all those pretty things you don’t need come together and throw themselves at you. Never is this city of excess more irresistible than when its offerings go on sale.
Continue reading →

Economic Shitstorm

Lifeless Leather? Ask Dr. Cobbler.

WARNING: The pictures you’re about to see may cause horror, fury, melancholy and/or disgust. They’re what happens to your leather goods after you’ve loved them a little too much.
When the strap on my Botkier broke, I initially allowed my preoccupation with my Abaco to distract me from the pain of loss. Alas, no handbag worth its monetary and emotional investment is easily gotten over. Said bag was, after all, the original reason behind my waiting tables in college; I sacrificed sleep, time and dignity to pay for the thing in 20s, 10s and 1s, and it served me well for five whole years. The least I can do is give it another shot. So I’m taking this sick puppy to the leather doc today to see if he can bring it back to life.
That leather cobbling is a dying art totally speaks to our constant need to buy new crap. When our old stuff starts to wear and tear, we don’t think about how to prolong its lifespan; we think of it as an excuse to spend on things we want under the guise of need. When the worn-out stuff in question is a fugly dress or an old t-shirt, tossing the old and buying the new ain’t no thang. When it’s a $550 handbag, you best think twice.
While I’m at it, I might as well give my oh-so-broken-in Aldo motorcycle boots another shot before officially writing them off. I got these for $110ish last year (reduced from $150). While they weren’t quite as much as an investment as the Botkier, they’ve become the most comfortable heel I own (via a long, arduous breaking-in process). And when you’re 5′2″, you can’t put a price on a comfortable heel. I’m hoping they’ll look less gnarled post-makeover.

Stay tuned for reports on what my local cobbler dude charges me, and - hopefully - for “after” shots too.

Economic Shitstorm

Alias Premium Denim: Free for Me, Cheap for You

I was initially going to review the pair of Alias Premium Denim Jeans sans mentioning they were sent to me, free of charge. Then I had a guilt attack.

I figured if the jeans sucked, I’d send them back and no one would be the wiser. Alas, they sooo don’t suck. They actually rock. I’d rather recommend them to you and fess up to the fact that they cost me nada than maintain the perception that I pay for everything on my own dime. So there that is. OMG, that was so cathartic!

My only beef with these jeans is that they’re a bit ass-crack-tastic (then again, I might only feel that way because I’m into the high-waisted thang as of late). Secure them with a belt to avoid revealing any undergarment that might inspire a shitty R&B song. I don’t love the squiggly logo on the butt; I do love how the denim flatters said butt.

Even though the cut and wash aren’t my personal taste, I still gotta give Alias the Cheap JAP seal of approval: These $40 jeans fit and feel like a $150 pair, and henceforth meet the shop-cheap-look-loaded standard nicely. Kudos to the gals behind the brand for giving us a way to opt out of overpriced denim and still look hot.

Economic Shitstorm

The Cheap Jean Scene

It was only when I started getting unsolicited compliments on my Forever 21 jeans that I let go of my inner label whore enough to wear them with pride. Now look, I heart JAPtastic denim as much as the next brand snob, but not enough to pony up $200 every time I want new pants. Here’s how to navigate the world of low-cost jeans without looking like a wannabe or (gasp!) even remotely cheap.

Beware the Back Pocket

Know why brands like True Religion, Citizens of Humanity, Joe’s, Sevens, et. al. get to charge upwards of $200 for their goods? Because of that label you’re so eager to slap on your ass. In an effort to compete with coveted labels, reasonably priced denim companies often attempt to mimic horseshoes, JJ’s and such; buying into this is akin to ponying up for a fake Louis Vuitton on Canal.

With cheap jeans, simplicity is queen; the less design-y crap, the better. DKNY and Levi’s know how to not junk up the trunk. Levi’s 505 Straight-Leg Jean, $34.99; DKNY Stretch Soho Boot Cut Jean, $59.99

Mind the GAP

The GAP’s apparel bores me to tears, but they’ve been making reasonably priced jeans for years - Respect. And where style and fit are concerned, they’ve come a loooong way.

If you’re one of those paranoid jean freaks who believe cost relates to quality, these are for you: Still under $100 and totally well-made.

GAP Super Bell Jeans, $78; GAP Grey Trouser Jeans, $69.50.

Color Me Trendy
Jeans embellished with rhinestones, zippers and/or glitter tend to always look trashy, be they Versace or Bebe. Conversely, colored denim and/or trendy jean styles (uber-high-waisted, super flare, baggy boyfriend, etc.) look fab on the cheap.

It is generally considered unwise to purchase expensive experimental denim, as hot pink jeans probs won’t do it for you next year. Go to funkytown with Forever 21 instead.

Forever 21 High-Waist Straight Leg Jean, $22.80; Forever 21 Ria Skinny Jean, $29.80.

Classics Rock
Some brands are above trends and/or the temptation to jack their prices; they remain timeless, and eternally cool. Calvin Kleins, Levi’s, and Guess - the upside-down triangle era Guess - come to mind. Heart these eighties throwbacks here.

GUESS Beverly Jean, $89.

Economic Shitstorm

Cut Before You Toss

Before I’m about to toss something I haven’t worn in awhile, I assess its post-hemline surgery potential. If it seems promising shortened, sans sleeves, etc., I whip out my fabric scissors and go to town.

This ruffled cropped top was a Rebecca Beeson tunic before I had my way with it. (It was adorable in its original state, but I’m kind of over the whole tunic/leggings thang - it’s a bit too JAPtastic for me).

Snipping the skirt portion of the garment made it an easy addition to not one, but two outfits! At left: Top, Target GO International, $26.99; Shorts, Forever 21. At right: Shirtdress, Millau, $62.40.

So, I got a new top that cost me nothing in dollars. Makes a whole lotta sense!

Economic Shitstorm

A Sabbatical from Designer Denim

When the economy sucks and gets suckier, sacrifices have to be made in all areas of life. Maybe we can’t afford ten dollars in Pinkberry each day. Maybe we also need to let go of one of our usual splurgy poos…at least for the time being.

The first one to go? Designer denim. Buh. Bye.

Look brand snoots, I feel you. I used to consider jeans that cost less than $150 an insult to JAPs everywhere. This was before I discovered Forever 21. Unlike GAP, Old Navy and the like, Forever 21 denim is virtually unrecognizable as such. When worn with a white-hot shirt (this one Anne Fontaine, stolen from Mommy’s Closet), they look like they cost a hell of a lot more than $24.99.

If you can’t bring yourself to buy jeans from Forever 21, get off my blog. Now. Just kidding ;). If you must, must have brand name denim in your life, don’t add insult to injury by paying full price.
Hit sample sales, Loehmann’s, Century 21, outlets, designer re-sale shops, whatevs. Anything you buy, be it a crazy leather handbag or an H&M dress, can always be found for less than its retail price; jeans are NO EXCEPTION to this rule.

I’ve had serious success with denim of the designer ilk at Beacon’s Closet.

I’m also a big fan of Beacon’s’ no-name stuff; this fantabulous, high-waisted, wide-legged pair was $16.95.

The front of the jeans is good.

The back of the jeans is GREAT. Must be that gold shooting star patch.

Or maybe it’s just my ass!

Economic Shitstorm

Is Shopping Necessary? (Obvs. Just Humor Me.)

Like food and shelter, clothing’s a necessity, right? We’d def like to think so. But you don’t need a new winter coat because you’re going to freeze to death if you don’t buy one; you want one because you’re sick of your old one. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If we’re going to protect our checking account from the elements, however, we’ve Got. To. Shop. Less. As in not as frequently. We must learn to recognize the events in life for which shopping is necessary and the events in life for which shopping is superfluous. This is how we do it, Montell.

The First Date
Shopping Barometer: Superfluous
“Eek, a date! OMG, What the eff am I going to wear?!” Stop. Breathe. Think. This is a first date, floozyface. I don’t care if you’ve met before or hung out a few times or whatever. The dude isn’t thinking about your outfit; he’s thinking about how to maneuver you out of it. So wear your fave jeans, dress, jacket, whatever. Wear that item that envelopes you in awesomeness every time you put it on. It’s going to look a hell of a lot better than any impulse buy.

The Job Interview
Shopping Barometer: Necessary
Say it with me now: You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Wear something a little more formal than what your future co-workers are wearing; if they wear jeans, wear slacks; if they’re business casual, wear a pencil skirt; if they’re fully suited up, go work somewhere else that gives you more wardrobe freedom ;). The outfit needs to look pulled together regardless of its formality: No pen stains, frayed hems, missing buttons, gnarled heels, runs in the stockings, etc. This usually means buying at least one new thing at Loehmann’s or another brands-for-less locale. Do keep in mind that dressing for success does NOT involve the use of your Saks card, mmkay?

The Really Bad Day
Shopping Barometer: Superfluous
“It’s that time of the month,” “He broke up with me,” “I hate my job,” “My thighs are fat.”
SHOVE IT. You heard me. Splurging on a $300 clutch out of self-pity is an insult to your intelligence and to handbags everywhere. Anything pricey must be a deliberate purchase deemed necessary because you cannot stop thinking about it. NOT something to temporarily assuage (oooh, big word alert!) the badness of your day. Take a bubble bath. Go to yoga. Call your Mom. Admit that you like watching The Notebook and bawl your eyes out. Just slowly back away from the Bloomies.

Economic Shitstorm

Some Thoughts on Plastic

Mmkay, so, the economy’s in the shitter. The bad news first: We can’t shop as much. The good news? We can totally trick ourselves into thinking that’s not the case. But before we do that, we need to rid ourselves of plastic. This is Not. An. Option. Credit cards enable you to spend money you have not earned on things you cannot afford.

Ahem. I’ll say it again, this time, in bold.
Credit cards enable you to spend money you have not earned on things you cannot afford. Write that down.

The instant gratification of splurging on something you haven’t saved for and don’t really need pales in comparison to the grim reality that awaits you at the end of the month, when there’s not enough moolah in your checking account to cover your purchases. Why is there not enough?! Because you don’t make enough to afford $500 in shoes every few weeks, stupid. This doesn’t mean you can’t afford to shop. It just means you can’t afford to shop with a credit card. Don’t hide it in a drawer and pretend it’s for emergencies only - sooner or later, a $250 pair of jeans will seem like one, and you’ll be more broke than you are now. Take a pair of scissors to it, snip it in half, pay off your balance as soon as you can, and be done with it. Buh. Bye.