I got these sunglasses yesterday from Out of the Closet for only $8, minus the 10% Senior Discount! I fucking rule.
I also got the green top for $6.50 (minus discount) and it’s covered in nonsensical badges, rhinestones and d-rings, with a big fake “D&G” logo on the back.
Just sit back and be jealous of my shopping savvy.
A few months ago, several people sent me links to an interview with Jane Aldridge of Sea of Shoes, depicting her as a narcissistic, clueless Mean Girl. They probably hoped I would take to my blog, going Nah nah, Jane got dissed!
My personal interest in Jane and her blog was extinguished long ago, after a staggering outpouring of abuse from her friends and associates. I appealed to Jane’s sense of decency, and she suggested that I write about something safe, “like muffins.” Finally, one of the worst trolls reluctantly agreed to stop contacting me, reporting that Jane was sick of my “whining emails.”
Thinking about Jane now, I see we’re not that different. I like to buy shoes. I buy shoes that I don’t even wear. I buy shoes that some people would find excessive and even stupid. Here is an example:
See? They are still in the box and god knows I don’t need them but I really love them.
In the spirit of solidarity with Jane, let me compliment her on her fabulous living room, pictured above. It was recently featured in a regional magazine celebrating all things Texan.
At only 20 years old, Jane has furnished her first apartment with modest but quirky good taste. She has shunned crass opulence in favor of a low key dorm room effect, perfect for a young girl on a budget. It’s a welcoming, homey living room where comfort is obviously the priority. And I love the carefully edited knick-knacks!
As a lazy slob who hasn’t even owned a full-length mirror in twenty years, I say kudos to Jane. May all her dreams come true.*
*Unless she wants a pair of those silver shoes, then no.
I didn’t need Pantone to tell me their choice for Color of the Year. There has been nothing but orange around for months. You can call it Tangerine Tango or whatever you want, but it’s still orange and we don’t need so much of it.
Try looking for a red t-shirt, for example. A few weeks ago, I went to every store in a big mall, trying to find one. All the sales people led me to something orange, explaining that this was “the new color.” Each time, I insisted on red, declaring in a bossy voice that “Red is a neutral.” I vowed to boycott orange, although I nearly caved to an overpriced t-shirt by James Perse that was a deep orange I will call “persimmon.”
I also looked at some jeans called “lipstick” even though they were orange. Today, my husband took me to a huge Nordstrom which stimulates my endorphins no matter how depressed I am. We recently saw Jermaine Jackson there in the cosmetics department, clearly high on his own endorphins.
Everything was orange! It was an assault. It’s like a military take-over by orange. Even the nice sales assistant, Amanda, agreed that there was an orange “domination” underway. I tried on some dark blue jeans but to my horror they were not skinny jeans but “skinny legging jeans.” It’s a slippery slope to “jeggings,” I believe.
Here is a dress I bought last year, thinking it was “coral” when in fact it is a salmon pink (and not this hot pink in real life.) As you can see, I am right on trend with lace. You could even say that I started the trend, all by myself. I am thankful that it isn’t actually coral, which is a shade of orange, just like mango, paprika, papaya, or god forbid, Tangerine Tango.
Today I went to my favorite beauty supply shop, on a street in a wealthy community where everyone is too thin and the people sitting outside Peete’s Coffee are talking to their agents on their iPhones. It’s a great shop that carries every obscure brand you’ve ever heard of and the sales people leave you alone unless you want their help.
I picked out two hair products that won’t have any effect on the quality of my hair, but I enjoy the process of wasting money this way. At the counter, a woman was asking for help with her eyebrows. She was explaining that her eyebrow has a cowlick and nothing she’s tried could solve the problem.
I was fascinated. The sales person was eager to help, and obviously relished the opportunity. She suggested eyebrow gel, but the woman said that gels haven’t worked. I managed to suppress my urge to butt in. Personally, I swear by Lancome eyebrow gel in Brunet. It grooms the brows nicely and makes them look nice and full.
The sales person suggested mustache wax to tame the problem hair. I thought this was a great idea, even though I know you can actually get eyebrow wax at Bloomingdales or somewhere. It’s probably the same stuff, right? But the woman balked at mustache wax. She changed the subject to the dark circles under her eyes but continued to complain about her eyebrows. They were the bane of her existence, she said bitterly.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it. “Just pull that fucker out!” I snapped helpfully. Everyone turned to look at me. The sales woman smiled and said, “You’re so funny!” the way people do when they’re shocked by your candor. The eyebrow lady whined, “No, then I’ll have a bald spot!”
Now that I was involved, I offered a barrage of solutions but the eyebrow lady shot down each one. I began to realize how agitated she was. Maybe she didn’t really want help. Now she was complaining about the concealer she’d been offered and she refused to try the moustache wax. The sales woman turned to assist another customer and the eyebrow lady announced that she would try a department store, where “someone has the time” to give her their “complete attention.”
I realized that she was nuts. Not in any dramatic way, but still nuts. One of the things I love about the beauty supply store is listening to women explain what they’re looking for, in a beseeching tone that reveals their absolute belief that something will make them beautiful and happy. I find it so poignant. The belief and the hope in that beauty supply store could fill several churches.
The eyebrow lady was an anomaly that almost ruined my pleasure in wasting $42. Almost. But when she left the store, everything was restored to normal. I was disappointed that the nail polish I wanted was discontinued: it’s called “Bring on the Bling” and I tried it on last week when my BFF was having a manicure. It was like an entire Mardis Gras in a bottle.
Thank god I can still enjoy beauty products and I’m not a crazy eyebrow lady. That is my affirmation for today.
Look at this nice person I met at the mall today! I asked him about his sit-ups and whether he did a lot of crunches. But he was too nice to talk about his work-out regime.
All he wanted to do was to pull me close and put his chiseled arm around me.
I was going to take my shirt off too, but it all happened so fast.
Later I bought a Chanel nail polish and a red chiffon prom dress. but who cares, you know? It’s really all about connecting with nice male models people.
Yesterday, I made the stupid decision to google “Sister Wolf.”
It’s weird to see yourself as others see you. I’m used to interacting with strangers on my own territory but finding yourself being discussed elsewhere is the equivalent of hearing what people say behind your back. And naturally, they want to talk shit about you.
I was so pleased to find several people who loved my blog! But the pleasure gave way to annoyance when I came across a website devoted to criticizing bloggers. There was even a forum for the critics to chat among themselves, but I didn’t read it. It was enough to find some people dismissing me as crazy, with one commenter even noting disgustedly that I should be getting grief therapy instead of blogging.
It has never even occurred to me that people might disapprove of my grief. And I never think of myself as crazy, or even weird. I think the critics were upset that I outed a troll, and that’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Upon reflection, I’d do it again, because that’s the only way to effect a consequence for cowards who want to hide behind anonymity.
Well, you can’t please everyone, right? It’s better to not google yourself. It’s the one instance where ignorance actually is bliss.
But then, I was buying my kid a wallet at Ross Dress for Less, when a sales assistant asked me if I was aware of their Every Tuesday Discount for seniors. Sure enough, my reflexes are so slow that I didn’t slap her in the face for suggesting that I am a senior. She went on to explain that it’s for people “55 and older.”
I glared at her and said something like, Okay, I’ll take the discount but you’re not supposed to think I’m 55 or older. She smiled back, sweetly and blankly. What a fucking cunt! ™
God, it’s so awful how you can’t control people. I’ll never get used to it. But I can write to Ross Dress for Less and complain about this assault on my self-esteem. It might be fun to try to get them to apologize. I could even call it grief therapy!
Good idea or not?
Pendent – SOLD
Biba blouse – SOLD
“Comments for Jane” was a popular feature that many of us enjoyed, although others felt it was a symptom of an unwholesome obsession. God knows, it inflamed many of Jane’s fanclub in Dallas and around the world.
I’ve retired that feature, in part because I like Jane’s mother, Mom of Shoes. She’s a divorced mother of two teenagers, and in that I feel a kinship, even though our lives are so different. She’s doing her best, just like I am.
However, seeing Jane’s new post about these YSL shoes she acquired in Las Vegas, I felt the old call to duty. Sea didn’t purchase or buy the shoes: it was more magical than that. She fell in love with them and “as soon as they were mine, I blah blah blah.” Not only that, she’s waiting for another pair in a different color to be shipped to her home. Again, there was no crass “purchasing” or “buying” involved.
Coincidentally, today a reader sent me a link to a pair of colorful overpriced shoes at net-a-porter, and naturally I thought of Sea. I really want her to buy them.
So I am launching this new feature, called “Please Jane, Buy These Shoes! ”
Jane, these shoes are only $1,125 and you know you want them. Come on, they’re cute and you like a pop of color, right? Please buy them!
*Citizens, if you see a pair of shoes that seem worthy of this feature, just me send a link! xo
Carrie Blaydes left her design job at Helmut Lang in New York for an uncertain future down South, with her husband.
She has just opened her eBay store, Factory Handbook Vintage. She told me she was going to donate the proceeds of a beautiful cape to the Sister Wolf Roof Fund, so I rushed over to eBay to have a look.
Not only do I want that cape myself, but everything she has is unfairly appealing and styled to perfection. Carrie is the perfect model for her vintage collection, with an old world beauty and casual elegance that can’t be faked.
Make Factory Handbook Vintage your first stop when you’re in the market for something cool. And go see her blog to show some love!
Silk Chiffon Blouse – Malene Birger: US 6 UK 10 NWT $99 SOLD
Silk Blouse – Tucker: Small $60 SOLD
Cashmere Cardigan – Ballantyne for N. Peal: Small $60
Cashmere Dress – TSE: Small $150
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Shipping depends on location. Write to sisterwolf666@gmail to purchase via Paypal.
Questions re measurements? Just ask in the comments.
