I do not care to shop. I find grocery shopping a huge pain and shopping for clothing is depressing. They make nothing for women my size or my age. Either I must settle for something designed for a teenager or a dowdy old woman. I am neither. Plus, I'm cheap so I refuse to pay astronomical prices.
I like to shop at Target. I can usually find everything I need and a few things I didn't know I needed.
When we go to Phoenix, I like to shop at Last Chance. I stock up on tanks and usually find some cute shoes. I own more coats than any human being should have but I always find great bargains in Phoenix.
My favorite shopping is the bookstore. I hoard my gift certificates and save them for a few trips each year. Just walking through the door, all my senses come alive. I love the sight of my favorite authors' names on a new release. I love the feel and smell of new books.
Then I bring all of my new friends home and prioritize them. I restocked yesterday and I've already chosen the ones I will take to the lake.
Showing posts with label fur coats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fur coats. Show all posts
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Furs
Okay, I admit it. I own and wear furs.
The first one I acquired came about as kind of an expensive joke. I had a date planned with the man I am now married to. We had met for drinks once but this was to be our first official date. I happened to be in the same restaurant with a girlfriend while he was dining with a woman and some other friends. At that moment, I knew the scheduled date for the following evening was not going to happen. I was furious. (I was also 27.) I draped my girlfriend's fur around me and made the parade lap -- just to be sure he saw me and headed out to get something out of my car. He chased me into the parking lot. We did keep our date for the next evening.
About 10 or 11 months later, he gave me a fur. He couldn't afford it but it came with a wink and a smile.
A few years later, we were at a charity auction. He bought me a jacket that I adore. (I think there was wine involved.)
Many, many years ago we were in Chicago. We threw our luggage in the hotel room and headed out to a restaurant in Old Town. After ribs, fries and drinks, we decided to walk a bit and took a wrong turn. I am wearing jeans and a fur. The husband looks like he just fell out of GQ magazine. A gang of hooligans came out of no where. (I'm old enough -- they looked like hooligans to me.) and I remember grabbing his arm and thinking, "This is it. We deserve to die. We're walking down an alley in an iffy part of town. We may as well have: Kick me, Rape me, Kill me signs taped to us.
It was January and the streets were icy. A car and a taxi both tried to stop but ended up colliding in the alley. The gang scattered like pixie sticks. So, by the hand of God, we escaped that disaster.
As if I didn't own enough, I discovered that there are great deals to be found in warm climate towns. Lots of people move to Arizona, California or Florida and they unload their furs. So, I bought a gorgeous mink stole for about $25 and another year I bought a kicky jacket that I wear constantly. I think I paid $20.
Last year, I found a great fur jacket for the mother-in-law. It was a serious bargain.
The southern belle is still in me. They're all monogrammed. I have them cleaned and stored for the season. Of course, I can't afford to get them out of storage.
This week, I'm going to sacrifice elsewhere and pick up our furs. It's my favorite part of cold weather.
The first one I acquired came about as kind of an expensive joke. I had a date planned with the man I am now married to. We had met for drinks once but this was to be our first official date. I happened to be in the same restaurant with a girlfriend while he was dining with a woman and some other friends. At that moment, I knew the scheduled date for the following evening was not going to happen. I was furious. (I was also 27.) I draped my girlfriend's fur around me and made the parade lap -- just to be sure he saw me and headed out to get something out of my car. He chased me into the parking lot. We did keep our date for the next evening.
About 10 or 11 months later, he gave me a fur. He couldn't afford it but it came with a wink and a smile.
A few years later, we were at a charity auction. He bought me a jacket that I adore. (I think there was wine involved.)
Many, many years ago we were in Chicago. We threw our luggage in the hotel room and headed out to a restaurant in Old Town. After ribs, fries and drinks, we decided to walk a bit and took a wrong turn. I am wearing jeans and a fur. The husband looks like he just fell out of GQ magazine. A gang of hooligans came out of no where. (I'm old enough -- they looked like hooligans to me.) and I remember grabbing his arm and thinking, "This is it. We deserve to die. We're walking down an alley in an iffy part of town. We may as well have: Kick me, Rape me, Kill me signs taped to us.
It was January and the streets were icy. A car and a taxi both tried to stop but ended up colliding in the alley. The gang scattered like pixie sticks. So, by the hand of God, we escaped that disaster.
As if I didn't own enough, I discovered that there are great deals to be found in warm climate towns. Lots of people move to Arizona, California or Florida and they unload their furs. So, I bought a gorgeous mink stole for about $25 and another year I bought a kicky jacket that I wear constantly. I think I paid $20.
Last year, I found a great fur jacket for the mother-in-law. It was a serious bargain.
The southern belle is still in me. They're all monogrammed. I have them cleaned and stored for the season. Of course, I can't afford to get them out of storage.
This week, I'm going to sacrifice elsewhere and pick up our furs. It's my favorite part of cold weather.
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