Tied Up With String

What is it about sending and receiving mail that so intensely satisfying?

I have an excitement about mail more commonly witnessed in seven-year-olds. I can not wait to get home so that I can check my mailbox, despite approaching a ten year history of receiving mostly bills (and Victoria’s Secret catalogs, despite the fact that I have never ordered cheap, itchy lingerie from that company). Really, the last spate of interesting mail was my college acceptance letters. And considering where I ended up going, those were none too exciting.

I’ve never received a letter from anyone I’ve dated, but I’m holding out for it. Cat sent me a card with a lolcat joke, and that made my week.

I made a few choice purchases last week and mailed them out to friends yesterday, so if I know your address, expect something soon (cue malevolent laugh). Look out for a postcard from my fabulous trip next week, if I can figure out how to navigate the Chinese post office system.

Remember That "Don’t Need" List?

And how “any bags” was at the top? But this one doesn’t count! It is the most amazing, genius bag ever. Ever. Behold the Ogio Chassy Girl Messenger bag. It’s the 2006 model, but it’s still around because it’s perfect.

It’s big enough for my 13″ mac, but it still has a slim profile so I don’t feel like I’m dragging checked luggage on the bus. Few bag makers understand this delicate balance, which is especially important if you’re 5′4″ish or under. The wrong bag can dwarf you and pack on ten visual pounds. Yes, a bag can make you look short and fat. Don’t be naive.

The Chassy has these totally cool inside pockets that are magically made with elasticized material so they automatically slim up. Kind of like built in Spanx for your bag, it keeps things from getting droopy. Which is important for a bag with a log of pockets. But it doesn’t have so many pockets that you get lost trying to find your keys or phone.

The coolest thing is this elastic/magnetic bottle holder pocket that folds out…it’s hard to explain, so you should just buy one to see. It’s on sale for $39.99, marked down from $69.99 so it’s even a bargain.

Click over to ebags to see the inside views for yourself, plus you can see how cute it is in green, too. You’ll thank me. I’m thanking myself!

Pretty High On My "Don’t Need" List

It was close to the top, hovering just below: Any bag of any kind and More pointy black shoes.

The Coat beckoned to me from the hanger, so creamy and politically incorrect. I knew, even before trying it on, that the swingy lines would forgive all figure sins, and at the same time convey a certain slyphlike élan far beyond the purlieus of my daily wardrobe.

Joseph Magnin. Knee length wool. White mink collar. Aged a genteel cream. It was mine by divine right, and by force if necessary. I was able to avoid that violence with a heavy dose of plastic.

“But!” you’re saying, “it’s August. What kind of crazy person buys a wool coat in August?”

Two kinds. First, anyone who enjoys the hiemal summers of San Francisco. The other, a child raised by my mother and indoctrinated from birth with the mantra buy it when you see it, not when you need it!

In this case, guilty as charged on both counts.

Period Shopping at Walgreens

Walgreens is a magical place. There is always something you need at Walgreens. When you crave a quick pick-me-up, whether it’s lipstick, double sided tape, Dr. Scholl’s inner soles or a refill of Ativan, a trip to Walgreens always delivers.

This is true every day of the week. And then there are certain weeks of the month when it’s especially true. I speak of Period Shopping.

You know. When you go in ostensibly to pick up a simple box of tampons and whatever ancillary equipment you prefer (panty liners, Monistat, or god-forbid-but-someone-buys-it “feminine” spray.) But before you put such openly vaginal items in your basket, you need cover purchases. Like a magazine. And shampoo. Shell pink nailpolish to have at your desk for emergencies. Gum.

Once you establish a basket base, you add in the box of pussy pops and go on your merry way. En route to the register you walk down the candy aisle. That’s where the psychosis sets in. Your mind squeals, “CANDY!” Full size candy admits defeat in the fight against bigger jeans, so you pick up a bag of mini Twix bars. For the office candy jar. Plus a tub of Red Vines, for variety.

You notice tension flooding out of your body. Shopping feels good! So you turn right, up the random electronics aisle, instead of left to the cashier. You stock up on photo frames, blank DVDs and Excedrin PM, which it pays to buy before you need it. You select light bulbs, leisurely.

Anywhere between $50 to $100 later, you stagger out under the weight of three bulging white plastic bags, a discreet brown paper wrapped box of tampons forgotten at the bottom of one of them.

Walgreens knows this. Why do you think they organize the aisles the way they do? And we love them for it. I feel better just knowing they are around every corner, that flushed feeling only a credit card swipe away.

Note that this same phenomena occurs at Costco, with a tally closer to $500. You’ll also walk out with a box of tampons big enough to supply Beaver Academy for a year, which is a good thing for certain ladies who have particularly heavy days.

Shop happy.

Anti-Clock Decor

Funny that Colleen should mention my “dark office” at the Knickerbocker Bank. The newest addition to my collection is a black sand hourglass, which I notice is available at Paxton Gate. I don’t use clocks or watches (they just don’t work around my magnetic field, it’s no big deal) so timing a meeting can be tricky. The hourglass is a little over the top, but you have to do something to keep the gray conformities at bay. My story is that I like the design, but mainly I like that it’s black.

I bought it during a recent lunch time walk when I popped into Area, a very cool store in Jackson Square. There’s a lot of, shall we say, “hand” and “blown” going on in there. They also have the next thing I’m going to buy when I need to spend $600 to feel better: a carved elk head. (It’s on their so-not-intuitive site under
“accessories.” Good luck finding it. The site wouldn’t let me snag the photo, but I found a different one anyway, na-na.)

Since I didn’t have that kind of big money on me that day, I stuck with the hourglass for $30ish and a bunch of lottery tickets from the liquor store up the street. Remember the Massachusetts state lotto motto: You can’t win if you don’t play.

If You’re Still Looking For Colleen’s Birthday Gift

Only 40 days to go, and not all of us can give her that cool Flame Stitch journal. If you’ve read Colleen’s jam endeavor, Delights and Prejudices, you know she makes a mean hot fruit. What better way to encourage such yummy-for-us behavior than with engraved recipe cards from Mrs. John L. Strong? For a mere $135, she (or another talented chef in your life) can immortalize the secret ingredients of 20 signature dishes.

You can even kill two birds with one stone and pick up something for my birthday while you’re there (only a couple hundred shopping days to go.) I’m partial to the Da Vinci Box, the Buddhah cards, or even classic gift certificates. This stuff is so good, I’ll even enjoy printouts of the website.

Shoe Lust: J. Crew Lucia Printed Ballet Flats

Look! Aren’t they so pretty? In my (so not) secret shoe fetish fantasy world they are soft and comfortable because they’re flat and made of fabric, and so sharp and kicky because of the exciting printed pattern. I must have them. This time it’s love.

As Colleen mentioned, we’re big on meat around here. You’ll soon see that we’re also BIG on shoes. Sometimes even the same shoes, which can create unpleasant competition and Rochambeau tournaments in the aisle of Loehmann’s Shoes.

Fortunately in this case we’re spared the pain of shoe envy. They come in nine patterns, each one prettier than the next. I’m sure I can relinquish one of them to Colleen. I’ll even let her pick first. But next time we go out, I get the last bite of proscuitto.

Flame Stitch Journal

If you’ve ever self-identified as a writer and you have lazy parents/friends/co-workers/pets, you have received a journal as a gift. In fact, you have stacks of them–gilt, cloth, leather-bound, anime–there are piles of blank journals spilling out of your umbrella closet and hardware drawer. You probably even burn some in the winter when you’ve run out of firewood.

And yet: this letterpress notebook from Dauphine Press is so lovely I ‘d want to carry it around with me at bars and in taxi cabs. Especially now that my custom shark notebook is kaput, I need something pretty enough to inspire me to write more and better.

Countdown to my birthday: 43 days. You know where to go.