Far from wanting to turn this into a fashion blog, every once in awhile I have to concede the incontrovertible truth that I am a female. Who does, indeed, enjoy shopping at its most basest of forms. I don't live for it. I don't necessarily enjoy the decision-making process that so often accompanies a tight budget. But I have found myself a bit down when I have to leave a store empty-handed. I experience elation in the dressing room when something works out just so.
With the advent of online shopping, the world of marketable goods has become quite a fun adventure for me. Much more fun than window shopping. Online, I can peruse at my leisure without a salesperson asking me if I've found everything alright. While I appreciate the nod, even though it's their explicit job to ask and not because they care, I assure these people that, had I been having trouble finding anything, I would happily have approached them myself. In my head, anyway. I would never dare utter such things out loud.
Online, I can multi-task. I'm not stuck in a store wearing a winter coat that feels like a Tauntaun sleeping bag. And I know where the bathrooms are. I also rarely fall victim to that nastiest of all shopping bugs - the impulse buy. One can take all the measurements one can - nothing beats good old-fashioned trying-it-on. With clothes and shoes, it's rather difficult to purchase without seeing the real thing pre-investment.
Every once in awhile, a situation arises in which I must make the gamble but, usually (if it's not books) online shopping is reserved for pure research. Just recently, I needed to procure an outfit for a wedding. Found the dress. That was an ordeal to say the least. Poor Adam. But, as always, modest dresses are hard to come by. Well. Modest dresses that look like they were assembled in this century. If it's got long sleeves, it's also got a plunging neckline. If it's got a covered bust, it's got a draping back. If it's safe up top, it is not, to bend over.
So, I needed some sort of shrug or sweater to guard me from literally cold shoulders. I found one. But the colors weren't really what I was looking for. Mirth was to be had when I arrived home, having purchased the lesser of evil colors, and discovered that the store had other colors in stock available to order. Merriment! Okay. I know what size fits best so I don't have to worry about that. Are there reviews? Sometimes.
Ah, the elusive review. What can one say? Obviously, a whole lot of nothing. I give fair due credit to those people who know exactly what to say and how to say it on an online item review. But nobody cares where you wore it. Nobody cares who you gave it to and whether they thanked you or not. All I want to know is if it fits true to size. Does it run big or small? Will it stand up to wash and wear? Is it a good quality for the price? Is it as was expected? Will the color be the same when it arrives at my doorstep?
It wasn't.
But. . .that's okay. Because I found myself extra delighted that it was even better. It fits. The color looks great. I'm happy with my purchase, albeit a little ticked that I was no longer able to track the package once it left the hands of UPS and entered the USPS system. But it's here now and a sales representative who will contact me within 48 hours has 36 left to get back to me about a complaint that is already resolved. :)
In other fashion news (ugh, I feel ridiculous even saying that) I'm very much looking forward to the reintroduction of the fanny pack. But. . .let's refrain from calling it that. Waist pouch. Side purse. Even saddle bag is more acceptable. As a lover of pockets and a girl who just can't get used to the idea of a big ol' purse, I am in love with the idea of a hands-free easily-accessible pocket that is not part of my pants.
I want these:
Although, I'd probably settle for something like this:
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