Quicken Earth May: Paradise Lost, and Found

You may have noticed a decided lack of blogtivity this last month: all my words have been reserved for paying clients. Which is another way of saying that I am this close to having more work than me wee brain cells can process. Which is another way of saying that I am (or will be) rolling in loads of cash that I cannot spend on impulse buys.

So I'm thinking about absconding to Morocco instead. Doesn't this look like Heaven?



OOPS!
I didn't really elaborate on this earlier, but holy sweet mother of god JESUS did I come close to breaking the rules during that bout of BLPOES (Book Launch Party Outfit Emergency Syndrome) a few weeks back. See Abstentions for the unabridged account.

Also, Wasteland wouldn't take those stupid sunglasses back, so I guess I have my second new purchase to claim. (First one: accidental lingerie bag on Jan 11.)

This is disappointing and just...bogus. I always figured that if I faltered, it would be for something really last-a-lifetime GOOD. Like tender virgin baby cashmere loungewear, or the most luxurious and comfortable couch in the universe. Instead, I ended up with two totally nonessential, totally nonglamorous Made-in-China pieces of crap, all because I wasn't paying enough attention.

But I suppose that underscores the point now, doesn't it? Conscious consumption. Aka: try to be, like, actually awake when you approach a cash register.


NECESSITIES


(To be perfectly honest, I think I exceeded this bottle count.)


CREATIVE CONSUMPTION (i.e. USED ARTICLES)
I feel as though most of my month--or at least my consumption this month--was defined by BLPOES. The following is a list of previously owned items I purchased while searching for that ever-elusive perfect outfit:

classic vintage short wool trench: $50
designer eggshell bracelet-sleeve leather jacket with 'glamorous sleuth' collar: $211
fire engine red silk DKNY blouse: $59
shiny black self-buckle belt: $25
Barney's wafer thin heather cotton cardigan with handmade buttons: $59
three ridiculously expensive (but amazing) vintage Lucite bracelets: $58 each

one ridiculously expensive vintage sterling silver heart lock necklace: $209
and one Batik-esque booby cotton dress/top/schmatta (with handy pockets!): $8

Total: $736

I know what you're saying. You're saying I'm a complete lunatic. You are not entirely wrong. I was flung into a state of temporary madness by BLPOES. I bought more than I should have, I paid more than I should have, I spent more than I should have. But the important thing is that I did not succumb to Newness. (Also: I really love everything.)

And I know what else you're saying. You're saying that I just told you I was absconding to Morocco because I can't use my cash for impulse buying, and yet I spent $736 last month on impulse buys.

Oh Honey.

These were not impulse buys. It took the better part of a week to uncover this stuff from the endless color-coded racks of rich people's fashion detritus. I missed deadlines to uncover this stuff. I sweated and fretted and LABORED to find this stuff. I never wanted to shop AGAIN after finding this stuff. For serious. Shopping vintage is HARD. And if you're busy with work, there's simply no time for it. Hence Morocco. (Clearly still hacking away at that deeply ingrained need to BUY! BUY! SPEND! SPEND! BUY!)


UP FOR DISCUSSION
Sometimes (only sometimes) I buy magazines while trapped in airports. (Ignore, for a moment, the fact that I'm single-handedly killing biomes with my frequent flyer miles.) But I leave the mags at the laundromat when I'm done with them, for the reading pleasure of others. Think that counts as recycling? (Don't answer that.)


ABSTENTIONS
Picture it: Day Four of BLPOES. I was tired. I was sweaty. I hadn't eaten lunch. I had torn through no fewer than five vintage shops over a period of three hours. And then it appeared in front of me, shimmering like an outfit oasis: Ambiance, the world's most intentionally crowded boutique full of good and easy-to-wear trends. I told myself a blatant lie to justify crossing the threshold: that the experience would make a funny blog post. Foolhardy indeed. With laser precision, I zeroed in on a cobalt-and-ocre cotton cut-lace minidress and a seafoam silk Nanette Lepore boho blouse with lime green embroidery. Both perfectly fitting (and perfect-fitting) options, both on sale. To buy them would be to put an end to my woes with five minutes of work and $300. After deliberating in the dressing room for all of 45 seconds, I did the walk of shame to the register, shaking with every step. I put the items on hold. I walked out of the store. I made SOS calls. I actually cried. I drove to Cris and bought aforementioned (and entirely unnecessary) leather jacket: the equivalent of tossing Jenna Jameson into the volcano, hoping Pelé doesn't notice the substitution. And then, with time, wine and sage council, the crisis passed.

You know the words that really helped me through it? That this blog is bigger (at least for me and all ten of my readers) than one outfit on one night for fashion snobs who might not even show up. That the (admittedly cute) easy way out would only disappoint us in the end. So true. Thank you, Internet, (and thank you, Rene and Jenn), for reminding me of what was really at stake.