Tag Archives: shopping

Rest In Peace Sophie Kinsella, Confessions of a Shopaholic

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“…nothing haunts us like the things we didn’t buy.” Quote from Becky Bloomwood/Confessions

There’s sad news to report from the literary world.

Author Sophie Kinsella died yesterday. I didn’t know that she had been diagnosed with a glioblastoma in 2022, which is one of the deadliest and most aggressive types of brain cancer.

I loved all of her books and probably have read everything she’s ever written. The first two novels in the Shopaholic series were adapted for the 2009 film Confessions of a Shopaholic, starring Isla Fisher. It’s one of my all-time favorites.

“That moment. That instant when your fingers curl round the handles of a shiny, uncreased bag–and all the gorgeous new things inside it becomes yours. What’s it like? It’s like going hungry for days, then cramming your mouth full of warm buttered toast.” Becky Bloomwood/Confessions

Those who dismiss her books as merely frivolous rom-com or chick lit don’t take into consideration the amount of work and talent it takes to write great dialogue and create characters that come to life.

RIP Sopie Kinsella. She’s survived by her husband and their five children.

And me? I’m still searching for that perfect green scarf. IYKYK

“You speak…PRADA?” Becky Bloomwood/Confessions

Here’s a trailer for the film, Confessions of a Shopaholic. I’m going to watch it again this weekend.

Ugly/Cute | Birks and Crocs

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Apparently, I could resist no longer. The primal pull of these Birkenstocks were too great; I succumbed to the ugly cuteness of these shoes.

What sealed the deal for me was their Hello Kitty pinkness. The style might be hideous but that color draws me in every single time.

I get it now. They are essential; maybe not as adorable as a pair of stilettos, but in their own way, they’re fashionable and even princess-y, don’t you agree?

Even better, they were on the clearance aisle at Nordstrom Rack, so I scored in my own strange, thrifty manner.

If you see me walking around with my Birks and socks, just nod and carry on.

But wait! It gets worse!! Much worse…both Angel Kids have Crocs with charms to embellish their weird looking shoes, so I became obsessed with them, too.

I found some kid-sized offbrand “crocs” for about three dollars (yay for thrifty me!) and subsequently discovered these adorable charms, so now I am officially chic/unchic. I’ve been wearing them for gardening so they haven’t been out in public yet, haha. “Mom, Grandma, Boy Mom“, how could I NOT represent my tribe???

Crocs and Birks, what the heck has happened to me? What’s next? Will I stop shaving my legs and run around naked like the hippies who lived at Taylor Camp, the 1970s commune on the island of Kauai?

Not. A. Chance. Nope. Not bloody likely. Not gonna happen. But I’ll wear the shoes…

A Sweet, Happy Day

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I went to the dentist for my regular six-month checkup and cleaning with the extra nice hygienist who always makes me laugh. The good news is that overall, my teeth looked healthy, but an old filling had deteriorated and needs to be replaced which is annoying, but not traumatic enough to cause too much stress. That made me VERY happy. The dentist is as detail oriented (OCD) as I am, so I know she’ll do a fine job. No worries.

This morning started out to be one of those enchanted, simply special times where the good energy spirals and infuses the rest of the day.

After all of that, I usually like to go shopping as a reward– kind of like the adult version of the treasure chest pediatric dentists have available for children to “pick a prize”. I’m convinced that retail therapy is therapeutic.

A new Nordstrom Rack opened up in the vicinity and it seemed like a great destination for some browsing — you never know what treasure might catch my eye.

I stopped at the hair care aisle and had a pleasant chat with another curly girl about what kinds of products we use for our hair type.

Like a butterfly, I flitted from one area to another: children to workout wear to undergarments to sparkly dresses, and ended up at shoes, my holy grail.

My eyes were drawn to these Karl Lagerfeld embellished heels on the clearance shelf. I grabbed them off the rack, put them on, and instantly fell in love. A couple of women also trying on shoes commented that they were adorable and looked exactly like ME. I don’t know how total strangers would know that they looked like me when they didn’t know me at all, but I told them they were exactly right.

The only problem is that they were a little too big. I usually wear 5.5 but these must run large. Before I could even look for a half size smaller, one of the women found me another pair in the right size but in black. They were cute, but I liked the port color better.

Her friend searched and discovered the right color in the right size and brought it to me. Can you believe how friendly and lovely absolute strangers can be? It makes me feel that all is not doom and gloom in this world. There IS goodness.

I find the random chat in a store between strangers, people who just happen to be in the same place at the same time — consummately satisfying. We don’t know each others’ names, we have nothing in common but a friendly spirit that’s willing to share a few words and some kindness. It’s an insanely gratifying connection that happens quite often. Do you experience it, too?

Of course these shoes had to come home with me. I’m totally obsessed. The kitty (Lagerfeld’s emblem), the pearl, the sparkles; each shoe is slightly different. Yes, I’m OBSESSED with the design, but even with a four-inch heel, they are actually comfortable.

All I need now is somewhere special to wear them!

I hope your Thursday was as wonderful as mine.

Virtue Signaling

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Virtue signaling: a public expression of opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one’s good character or social conscience or the moral correctness of one’s position on a particular issue.

Take note of how often virtue signaling consists of saying one “hates” things.

It’s another way to convey that someone feels superior to another.

I recently experienced being victimized by virtue signaling, which I feel is REALLY annoying.

Here’s the story:

I attended an event and a couple of women and I were chatting well after it was over. We decided to get together the following week for coffee/tea and continue the conversation since it seemed as if we had common interests.

When we met, we started talking about all the usual things: our personal histories, our children, education, and what we like to do for fun.

When it was my turn to share, I mentioned how much I love to shop. For me, shopping is truly therapeutic. I don’t necessarily mean I have to spend money to reap the benefits; I enjoy looking at pretty things whether it’s for me, for someone else, or finding special presents for the Angel Kids.

And it’s the truth. While I love to garden and bake (for the kids) and a (sometime) community activist, going to stores brings joy.

Well…my innocent confession set off a chain of negative comments…”I hate shopping.” “I never shop if I can help it.” “Shopping is a waste of time.” “I wear my clothes until they’re worn out like rags.”

Virtue signaling 101.

“Shopping is buying into the patriarchy.” OKAY, they didn’t actually go that far, but the spewing of hatred for my pastime wasn’t very nice at all. I felt personally attacked.

What I detected by those comments was their close-minded conspicuous, self-righteous, lofty, superior moral viewpoint with the intent of communicating their BETTER-than-me attitude.

The subtext was that I was a frivolous naive one-dimensional superficial fairy-like creature who doesn’t dwell nearly enough on the somber, grim, seriousness of life. Like they do.

To look down on someone with disdain and contempt for sharing what they do as a leisure activity or distraction is judgmental and close-minded.

I didn’t ridicule THEM for NOT liking retail therapy, although the snarky side of me privately thought that they could both benefit from some (teehee).

I have found this experience to be something I’ve endured several times in my life, and recently. It’s like a moral badge of righteousness for some women to declare how much they hate shopping. “I don’t shop.” “I don’t care what I wear.”

Well, I DO. I love treasures and bargains as much as l love to look at Gucci handbags and Chanel jewelry, not with envy and longing, but with appreciation for the beauty of the craft.

The lesson I learned that day was that I didn’t really have anything in common with mean-spirited people, so they won’t be my new BFFs and I won’t be joining them again for coffee. That wasn’t the only personality difference, though. They had detached parenting styles while mine is more drone-like and very much attached. Their own parents weren’t like mine; they both had complicated and angry issues with their mothers and lots of complaints. I couldn’t relate as mine has been dead for a long time but I miss her every day.

Rant over. I’m going shopping now.

A Joy Forever

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“A thing of beauty is a joy forever” — John Keats.

I used to love to walk through the downtown of my little city, until elected officials decided to call it a “village” but instead ruin it by filling it with boxes of ugly square buildings and a lot more places for people to get nasty drunk.

There’s no longer any charm; the atmosphere is entirely UNvillage-like, actually about as far away from being a “village” as you could possibly get.

I usually stay away but yesterday I found myself in the area and stopped at a little consignment shop, not the same one where I once scored AUTHENTIC Louis Vuitton and Dior scarves in the same day, but one with housewares and touristy stuff.

That’s where i fell in love with this beautiful work of art in the form of a pitcher and HAD to bring it home with me.

She needed a special photo shoot to properly reveal the iridescent green and gold, so I brought her out to the garden to soak up a few rays.

Have you ever seen anything more charming and ENCHANTED? I think not.

There’s no maker mark so it’s not valuable to anyone but me, but I love pretty things and this pitcher will definitely be on display in all of her glory. I’m burying the lede here, but in case you’re wondering, it cost $8.00.That’s it. EIGHT DOLLARS.

A thing of beauty is absolutely a joy forever.

Gift With Purchase

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How does a three year old know me so well?

Her mom purchased a bottle of perfume and it came with a fancy little cosmetic bag full of samples.

Apparently, as the story was told to me, Angel Girl told Mom she had to “save the bag for Grandma” ‘cos “she loves stuff like that.”

She was a thousand percent correct. I LOVE gifts with purchase because it’s like discovering a surprise treasure chest.

How did she know?

I mean, we share the Chanel connection and the ballerina connection, but gift with purchase?

How could this obviously intuitive child see so deeply inside of me?

That’s too much. My heart can’t take it. The joy.

Every single time I use that little bag, I’ll think about my Angel, and smile.

Yup. She gets me.

Happy February | Imbolc | Chinese New Year

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This is a great day for all of the reasons!

Have you ever gone to a store with a purpose, on a mission, like you know exactly what you’re looking for or need, BUT you become sidetracked and MUST HAVE what caught your eye?

Well, that happened to me. I was looking for prezzies for my almost six-year-old. I like to start accumulating stuff way in advance of his March birthday and not wait until the last minute. I put a lot of thought into the gifts I choose; some educational, some for fun, some for artistic craftiness.

Up and down every aisle and there’s really nothing that I/he can’t live without…until I spy a pink butterfly and I’m entranced. When I get closer, I’m hooked. I’m in love. Obviously I’ve forgotten all about my original intention because this beauty was coming home with ME.

It’s a 12×12 pink butterfly pillow and it’s entirely crafted out of beads and sparkles. Oh my. It’s EVERYTHING. It’s gorgeous and sparkly and pink and tactile and PERFECT for my bed, and it’s on sale. It’s obviously not to be used as an actual pillow; it’s decor– it’s princessy and enchanted and beyond precious.

I have no idea why it was discounted 50%, but I l very gently– reverently— carried it in my arms to the register.

The employee said, “Where did you get that? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I pointed, and she said, “Just a minute, OK?” and ran over to snag the only other one.

“I had to have it”, she whispered, and I nodded. “I know. Sisters.”

What a simply perfect way to start the lovely month of February.

Butterfly Pillow


DIY: Embellishing the Ordinary

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When I’m sad or melancholy, I shop. When I’m happy, I shop. It’s an all purpose panacea that works for me, no matter what. They don’t call it retail therapy for nothing.

I was out and about browsing in all my usual haunts from Ross to TJ Maxx to the Rack.

I didn’t find much except for a pair of Laura Ashley slippers. I love to wear slippers; I have a closet full of them from animal print to sequin-studded to a couple pairs of Hello Kitty slippers that were gifts. I don’t have any babouches, those flat Moroccan slippers, but I have mostly every other style.

I brought home these pillow-soft, ballet-pink slippers and determined that something was missing. They’re super soft and comfortable but they needed some enchanted style embellishment to become perfect.

The white bow didn’t work for me. It seems to me that Laura Ashley could have really taken it up to another level if they had given it a bit more thought.

I removed the bows and drove to a fabric store.

I was thinking about a pompom to look like a little bunny, but then I spied a fabric flower with a rhinestone center. I had to have it.

Luckily, there were two, so I brought them home. Even more fortuitous for me is that they already had a pin mechanism on the back so I can take them off when I throw the slippers into the washing machine.

HAPPINESS!

After I attached the flowers, I was feeling satisfied with myself and I know I’m a little strange, but I felt like a princess walking (still limping) through the house with my adorable slippers.

In fact, I love them so much, I created a little photo sesh with different backgrounds. Definitely fit for royalty.

On animal print.
On a soft and furry blanket.
Draped in pearls and gems.

Low cost fun for me. Slippers: $7.99
Flowers: $8.00 for the pair as they were on sale.

My joy: priceless, because I’m easy to please.

Embellishing the ordinary is my special talent. There is beauty all around.

LOVE!

What does Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, and depression have in common?

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I was going to dip my toe into the world of writing from my gut, shining a light into my tortured personal journey as I stumble through the dark–I was GOING TO DO THAT.

But instead of spiraling down into that sad place, I grabbed my keys and drove into the village, deciding what I really needed was some therapy; retail therapy. Always the joker, the self deprecator; that’s me!

After a very rainy day yesterday, today was warm and fresh and shiny.

As soon as I walked into one of my favorite consignment shops, I spied a box of scarves and hats thrown haphazardly on each other like a pile of puppies. My eyes were drawn to a familiar brown and tan monogram on a scarf. I thought to myself, “it can’t possibly be authentic, but let’s take a closer look.” I picked it up. Hmmm, it sort of felt like silk. I checked the price tag. $12.00. TWELVE DOLLARS? It can’t be a real Louis Vuitton. Or could it?

I asked the salesperson, “Has this been authenticated?” She told me the owner didn’t think it was real so it wasn’t priced as a genuine designer. YES I WILL HAVE THIS, I told myself. Just then, my bad mood cleared up. I was firing on all cylinders.

One of my hidden talents is the ability to sniff out authenticity. Too bad that talent doesn’t extend to people, but that’s another story.

When I got home, I examined it more closely. The monogram was accurate, it was beautifully sewn, and I found a hidden tag that confirmed my suspicions- 100% soie Made in France. Yup, deffo genuine LV. SCORE!!!!!!

I also tried on an amazing St. John’s knit dress that I really really wanted, but even at resale prices, it was a bit too expensive, so I reluctantly put it back.

As I was meandering through the aisles, I spied a wall display. Draped over the shoulder of a red sweater was an oversized black and white houndstooth scarf. My eagle eye spied the logo in the corner: DIOR. Hold on, girl. Acting like it’s not a big deal so that no one else would want it…I grabbed it off the hanger–the original sales tag was still attached. It was 100% cashmere Christian Dior!!! And it was $20.00. TWENTY DOLLARS! How could I say no? This beautiful shawl-like wrap needed to be rescued. By me.

Instead of continuing to dwell on the things that weigh down my heart, these little treasures helped to cheer me up–perhaps merely a superficial bandage, but sometimes that’s all it takes to shake me out of a despondent mood. At least for a little while. Until next time.

A Tale of Two Dresses

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Do you ever take a moment or two out of your busy day or before you close your eyes at night and wonder who in the hell Princess Rosebud really is?

So do I, my friend, so do I.

Toward that goal, ponder upon this for a while. The following might give you (and me) some valuable insights into my intimate gray matter. (Not Fifty Shades of Gray, maybe only about three or four.) Or not. You decide.

I bought two dresses. I love them equally. I hung them side by side to admire them and I’m looking at them right now and I’m loving so much about each of them for their individual intrinsic qualities.

One is a Lilly Pulitzer. a tried and true real designer brand that I could wear anywhere and be appropriately attired. I love the sleeves and the sassy outrageous bright colors and the dynamic print. It speaks of shiny happiness to me. I also love that it’s XXS, which soothes my poor body image issues. In my convoluted and distorted mind, I feel that IF I fit into an extra extra small size and it’s loose on me, then no matter what or how I feel on the inside, I can’t be ginormous, right? (Not that I’m body shaming anyone as this is my own personal issue.) With a spiky highhigh heel or summer-y espadrille, this is a sexysexy dress cos it’s super short, too.

The other dress is a treasure I picked up at the Buffalo Exchange in Ballard when I visited Angel Boy 2.0. It’s Forever 21 (which is EXACTLY how I feel on the inside. Arrested development and all that…) I love everything about this dress too: the muted burgundy and black/tan colors, the print, the little buttons, the tassels, and the vaguely Elizabethan/hippie empire cut with the billowy long sleeves. With leggings and adorable boots, I can’t WAIT for autumn.

One dress cost ten dollars; the other was on sale and cost less than one hundred dollars. Equal love. Money didn’t factor into the love.

Two shades of Princess Rosebud. There are a few more shades to my personality, but none of them are too extreme unless you start counting the number of seashells adorning the walls and shelves of each and every surface. Hence the title of my blog…

On another totally unrelated subject, many thanks to whomever sent me the package of thongs! I don’t normally wear Calvin Klein underwear cos I love silky things next to my skin, but they are super cute. A mystery gift giver, how awesome! Or…stalky. Hmm…