Fashion Forward

I just got an email from Saks Fifth Avenue. Subject line, 'Just for you.' Aw, how sweet. I opened it. Scrolled down. Revealed that the items pre-selected for me by retail's creepy algorithm were canvas mules. (no.) dopey rain boots (no.) and white converse high tops with a heart on them (what are those? no!) 

I imagined the virtual Saks personal shopper cringing when she hit send. Or perhaps she was hopeful. Could these low performing items stuck somewhere in between 1996 and 2000 lure her in? If only we could get her in the store; what we could offer. 

***

I used to wonder how so many of my teachers from grade school all the way through grad school could get stuck in a certain era. They all seemed to possess a revolving wardrobe of outfits that had been purchased in between 1984 and 1991. Following their particular beloved fashion forward year, they had never gone shopping again.

I have vivid memories of lectures given in shoulder pads and roostered bangs; Laura Ashley dresses, over-sized knit sweaters, stirrup pants. And my English teacher in high school, God love her, who outfitted herself in ensembles circa Moby Dick.

And the funny thing was - they were the good teachers. It was the trendy teachers, that were always kind of sub par.

I now know how they got lost in a given decade. They had kids. They had a career. They looked good in the 80s. (or 90s.) Why not just stay there. 

And this past week, I had a realization. I have become that person. Except I'm stuck in 2005 or 6. When my income went to clothes, shoes, handbags, and specialty cocktails. When life was wrinkle free, slim, trendy, and fleeting. The wake up call I got from Saks was the last straw.  

Recently, I've been noticing, ogling, longing, drooling over ankle boots; glorious black leather booties with fringe, brown ones with buckles, tan ones with trim. The soft leather bags, over-sized blazers, long comfy cardigans, puffy vests, oxfords and knee socks seem almost edible. The good hair, trained makeup, and manicured nails. If only.

If only what? I had more time. More income. I thought about my teachers ... and I thought about the fashionable women I work with. Intellects versus marketers. Do I slip further down the rabbit hole? Or make a dramatic surge toward relevance. I just signed on to Nordstoms.com. I ended up buying a new pair of party shoes for Mary, and some walkers for Bobby. Maybe tomorrow.  

But in my defense. I find so much more joy in dedicating my off hours to other stuff. Stuff that won't ultimately end up in the Goodwill bin. Besides, I'm generally the one behind the camera. 

Lo.