Confession

I have used Aveda Shampure shampoo and conditioner for the last couple of years. Once I started buying the giant liter sized bottles, the mister started using it too, since there wasn't room in our tiny shower for my jumbo bottles of Aveda and his small bottle of head and shoulders.

It smelled nice, and I believed it was good for my hair.

A few weeks ago I ran out of conditioner and I just never got around to getting a new bottle of it. Unless we're in the middle of winter, with the super-dry air sapping moisture out of my hair, I only condition once or twice a week anyway because it weighs down my super-straight, very fine hair.

Last week we ran out of shampoo and I just couldn't bring myself to brave the holiday weekend crowds at the Mall of America (the mall closest to my home) to buy more, so I just went to Walgreens and bought a bottle on Pantene.

And my hair has never looked better! I'm using cheap shampoo and no conditioner, and my hair is full of volume and silky smooth. I think I might give up my Aveda habit. At least for shampoo.

Help! Advice Needed!

I’m getting pictures taken as a Christmas gift for the mister.

There’s a local photography studio that does pin-up photography and I’m headed over there in less than two weeks for a photo shoot. (Tasteful, not nude. Maybe tacky, but not vulgar.)

What the hell should I wear?

Options I’ve thought of thus far (things already in my wardrobe):

A suit. I own many. Personal fave: a Calvin Klein number with a knee-length pencil skirt and belted blazer in a black-and-white houndstooth. Also a gray skirt suit, a black skirt suit (that one’s my funeral suit – perhaps not the best option). There are several pantsuits but I’m going with a big fat no on those. There’s also an entire closet full of work clothes: blazers, professional tops, slacks, skirts, boring control top pantyhose, and plain white camisoles.

A men’s white oxford and bare legs. Classic and something I would actually wear. Well, not in public, but...shut up.

A nightie. I own a couple, most of them gifts from my bridal shower. The problem is that the ones that qualify as “sexy” also qualify as see-thru, and I’m not quite comfortable with that.

Lingerie. I mostly own serviceable undies and boring beige bras. I’m a definite comfort over style kind of girl. And the va-va-voom stuff I own, well, a lot of it came from my bridal shower, and it is DEFINITELY va-va-voom but I’m not particularly sure I want the mister carrying a picture of me in teeny-tiny undies in his wallet.

Do you see why I need help? Suggestions, please. Stores that I can afford to shop at, outfits you think would be cute, anything.

(I am not kidding, you people had better give me ideas or I’m going to end up getting these pictures taken in my leggings and Ugg boots.)

Sweaterdresses and running the shopping mall gauntlet

I recently found myself obsessed with the idea of sweater-dresses. While I realized, despite the loss of 15 pounds, my figure is not the lean, willowy sort on which a sweater-dress will look good, I still found myself desirous of owning one.

Last night I trekked to the mall, all couple of miles from my house, in search of a sweater dress. My requirements were few: relatively cheap, since I had no idea if I would like it and didn’t want to be out $150 if I only wore it once, no pockets, no chunky knits or cables, and as much natural material as possible.

I found it at Banana Republic: a purple knee-length, long-sleeved sweater-dress in a fine knit on the clearance rack for $60, with an additional 20% off. Perfect. I tried it on and while I’m sure it is not the most flattering thing for my saddlebags and runner’s thighs, it was cozy, comfortable, and would still be work appropriate.

I bought it and walked out of the store.

And ran face-to-face with the most annoying of all shopping mall trends. No, not teenagers in booty shorts and Uggs. Not young men with too much eyeliner, not people with dogs in purses.
The kiosk sales people. They sell lotion, make-up, hair extension, flat-irons, fingernail buffers, and knock off perfume. And they chase you down the hallways of the mall trying to get you to try their products. Shopping becomes a gauntlet run: shoppers must put their heads down and sprint the length of the kiosk filled hallways, dodging outstretched lotion bottles and people with hot hair tools.

I lived in Mexico for nearly six months and I experienced fewer aggressive sales people there than I experience in a 45 minute trip to the mall.

Usually I react to them the same way I reacted to vendors in Mexico. A small smile, a headshake, and moving on. Sometimes, though, I get really annoyed by the people chasing after me when all I want to do is get in and out uninterrupted.

One morning, well over a year ago, just a couple days before the bar exam, I had to run to the mall to pick up the bridesmaid gifts for my rapidly approaching wedding. I had not showered yet that day (or, probably, the day before). I was wearing one of the mister’s castoff t-shirts, a pair of gym shorts, and an icky ponytail. I was exhausted, irritable, nervous, and in a hurry.
One of the flat-iron sales men gave me his “let me show you something” spiel. I said no, thank you, but he persisted, reaching for the rubber band and bobby pins I had used to contain my hair, and I snapped. Literally, I could feel the tether I had on my control spring free. I whirled on him and pointed my finger in his face.

“Look at me,” I snarled, gesturing to my greasy hair and crappy clothes. “Do I look like I care about my hair right now? I have to take the bar exam in three days. I’m getting married in less than two weeks. I just need to pick up a couple of earrings and a purse. Please, leave me alone. I do not have time for this.”Last night was not quite so violent, but I was so annoyed by the guy trying to buff my fingernails (eww, I don’t know where that buffer pad has been, don’t touch me with that) that I forgot to make a stop at the mall and I now find myself faced with the necessity of going back. This time, though, I’ve planned my parking strategy in such a way that I can get in, go to the store I need and get out without walking down the kiosk-laden hallways.

I Look Ridiculous

You wouldn’t believe my get up right now. I’m almost embarrassed by it, but since I’m home alone it doesn’t really count as a huge fashion faux pas.

(1) One of the mister’s t-shirts. A No Fear one that has a grouping of nuts (as in nuts and bolts) on the back. The line written under the nuts: 40 to Stay in the Race. Only 2 to Win. It smells like his cologne and I like that.
(2) A pair of pajama shorts that can best be termed excessively short. “Booty shorts” would be pretty accurate. Hey, my legs, since I’ve been better about working out and strength training, look awesome and if I want to wear booty shorts in my own house I will. (Also, is the appropriate spelling of that term “bootie” or “booty?”)
(3) A pair of pink knock-off Uggs. I needed new winter boots and when I spied this Minnetonka Moccasin pair at Nordstrom Rack, I jumped on them. They were on sale for very cheap. And in the dead, dark, gray, cold winter months, a pair of pink boots might go a long way in cheering me up. When my feet got cold, I got up to find my slippers and could only find the left one (no comments on my house-keeping, thankyouverymuch), but I found both the left and right boots.

I look ridiculous. But I’m comfy and my feet are warm and every once in a while I catch a whiff of the mister’s cologne and that’s enough for me right now.

Confession is Good for the Soul

Confession: I own a pair of leggings.

I bought them less than a month ago. KVE and I were at the mall using our free panty coupons at Victoria’s Secret and I saw the leggings on the clearance rack. I bought them. They say “Pink” across the butt. They’re awful.

But here’s the deal: I come home from work and immediately strip off my work clothes. I then put on confortable clothing. My favorite comfy clothes are my running tights. The problem with that is that when I want to go running, my running tights are always in the wash.

I really don’t need any more disincentive to run. Really do not.

So, I bought the leggings to lounge in so my workout gear is there when it’s time to workout.

I hereby swear to never wear these leggings in public. Unless, perhaps, in the case of very dire emergencies, like my house being on fire or my dog playing in traffic. Even then, I might strip and deal with the emergency in my undies.