CheapJAP

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.

DIY Dallying

From Sucky to Super! Another Scissored Sweater.

Heinous, Oversized, Teal Sweater: Zero Dollars.
Scissors: Zero Dollars.

Turning a heinous, oversized, teal sweater into a cute, cropped, batwing-sleeved number with ONLY a pair of scissors?
PRICELESSSSSSSSSS!!!

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.

Cheap JAP 101

Wardrobe Bitchslap: The Sifting of the OY VEYs.

The next stage of the Wardrobe Bitchslapping Process starts and ends with an OY VEY. Actually, I’m lying. It starts with you NOT touching and/or attempting to organize the YAY and NAY piles. The reasons for prolonging the disarray will become clear in due time, young Skywalkers. For now, quiet your inner-neat freaks and focus.

When Mom and I got to the OY VEY pile, we repeated variations of the following exchange for almost every article of clothing.

Me: (holding up item) What about this?
Mom: I wear that!
Me: When was the last time you wore it?
Mom: That’s not the POINT. I THINK about wearing it.
Me: MOM!

This is but one example of the kind of waffling you’re apt to indulge in whilst sorting the OY VEYs. Use these three steps to counter the flippity-floppity:
1. STOP, LOOK & LISTEN
Yup, we’re doing a little visual exercise here. Look at the item you’re holding; look at the NAY pile. Look at the item you’re holding; look at the YAY pile. Is the article in question similar in color, cut, style and/or material to your other YAYs or not? If so…
2. TRY IT ON
Immediately. If you’re not comfortable wearing it now, you’re not going to wear it anytime soon, dollface. And don’t give me any of that this-will-look-great-if-I-just-lose-five-pounds bullshit. You’ve got a whole pile of YAYs that look great NOW, and whatever you’re trying to squeeze into obvs shrunk in the dryer and cannot be trusted ;).
3. MAYBE USUALLY MEANS…
NO. But even I can’t go uber-minimalist (oxymoron?) in one Wardrobe Bitchslap. Only you know what you use most in your closet. Only you know what cuts, styles, colors and materials make you feel fab. Sort your OY VEYs according to that, and you’ll get closer and closer to the epic achievement of actually wearing all that stuff you “need.”

DON’T feel guilty about the accumulating NAYs. We’ve wasted just as much moolah on our castoffs as you did on yours. And it’s not like we’re throwing this stuff in the trash: We’re going to donate it, gift it, sell it, and/or re-fashion it. Stay tuned for tips on Greenly dispersing your NAYs slash organizing your YAYs.

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…

Cheap JAP 101

The Closeto Principle

When I revamp a closet, be it my own or someone else’s, my plan of attack always starts with something I like to call The Closeto Principle. The Closeto Principle is kin (and rhyming counterpart, natch) to the better-known Pareto Principle, which states that for many events, roughly 80% of the effects come from 20% of the causes.

Yup, you don’t care. Events, causes, effects - what is this, the Intro to Macro class you should have failed but didn’t thanks to grade inflation? (Wait, that was me). Chillax. The idea’s a hell of a lot easier to understand when applied to what’s in our closets.

The Closeto Principle: 80% of your outfits come from 20% of your clothes.

WHOA. Hang the eff on. You’ve got, like, sooo many clothes and sooo many outfits. There’s no WAY you wear less than a quarter of your wardrobe more than half the time. That would mean that OVER HALF of your closet is comprised of shit you wear only once in a while, if at all. And here’s the cold, hard truth about the aforementioned shit you wear once in a while, if at all:

YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PURCHASED IT.

Don’t believe me? Think about just one of your multiple attempts to wear that pricey top that’s been sitting in your closet for months. You layer it; belt it; accessorize it; re-apply your eye make-up to match it; put your hair up, down, and up again; adjust and readjust in front of the mirror. All this fidgeting invariably makes you late for something, but instead of just wearing the pricey top in the interest of saving time, you toss it to the floor in frustration, guilt and disgust. You next don your favorite shirt, breathe a big fat sigh of relief, and find yourself astounded by how quickly you’re able to get ready sometimes.

Me too, dollfaces. Me too.

Tall, short, old, young, fat, skinny, black, white, gay, straight, whatever - we all have a pricey top we feel guilty about not wearing. Roughly 80% of our closets are filled with versions of this cursed pricey top, and it’s time to clean house, beotches. You’ll thank me later.

Details on how to reduce, reuse and recycle over half of the un-worns in your wardrobe to follow. Get that game face on.

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.

Cheap JAP 101

Do It or Screw It? Online Shopping

Soooo, the crappy economic sitch means big designer discounts, obvs. Even new stuff incurs a price-slashing as soon as it hits the racks and/or the Interweb. It’s easy to get giddy over this phenomenon; isn’t a 50% off tag the silver lining of the overpriced handbag storm cloud? Au contraire, dollfaces. If we had money to burn, this would be cause for joy. We don’t, yet we remain easily convinced that because we’re getting those Hollywould navy suede boots - complete with black grosgrain ribbon AND removable legwarmers - for $235 as opposed to $650, we’re saving $415. No, no, and EFF no.

I won’t deny that uber-fab boots at less than half their original price aren’t a steal in some circles. But ask yourself this: If you hadn’t signed up for daily emails alerting you to deals of this ilk, would you still be out two hundred and thirty-five-plus-shipping-and-handling bucks? I don’t THINK so.

Right now, you’re probs thinking there’s no harm in receiving an email a day from Ideeli, or Hautelook, and/or Shop It To Me; you can always delete them; it’s not like you don’t have any self-control. That might be true… until you’re notified of a one-day-only Theory sale and you swear you’ll just look and oh that’s a kickass blazer and what?! 70% off! and click, click, BOOM! Another $200 bites the dust.

Designer-discount, members-only shopping sites masquerade as exclusive clubs so that, upon receiving an invite, you feel “chosen,” privy to coveted deals, etc. My hunch is that if you’ve bought anything online EVER, you’re either already one of the chosen ones or you will be soon. Sites like these operate on one principle:

If you see it, you will buy it.

I’m not anti-ecommerce in general; I’m against anything that takes the active choice factor out of spending money. Clicking your Bluefly bookmark to shop for a new peacoat might not seem that different from navigating to a Marc Jacobs sale via a suggestive email. But with the latter, you run the risk of spending money without actually intending to do so. And that, my little chickadees, is just effing stupid. Especially now.

This concludes today’s lecture on the Philosophy of Choice re: Buying Stuff (what?!). ‘Cause Fashion’s deep like that.

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.