Tuesday, May 11, 2010

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog to Gloat

So I was in Anthropologie yesterday with my sister-in-law Barbara, who was looking for curtains. I was just along for the ride, as they say (and no, not in the way Amy is typically along "for the ride...") I'm minding my own bidness, cruising the sale racks, and spot two adorbs dresses, one completely out of the range I'm willing to spend anything on that particular day, but I'm game to try it on, and the other more than I wanted to spend (definitely more than I needed to spend) but it was KEYOOT, so durrrr, I tried them both on.

Fast forward to dressing room: the first is a strapless cocktail dress with pleats and poufs and pockets, oh my!, and reminds me of Christian Siriano (princess puffysleeves to me, you, and the fellas at Project Rungay) with a wicked awesome photographic print rendered in a very abstract way, but because of the pleats, makes me look waaay too puffy for my liking.

The second is a Rohit Ghandi - Rahul Khanna chocolate brown, silk racerback trapeze dress with sequins around the tank, and it is magical. Would look totes cute with flats and my new Panama hat (Panama!!! Panama-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha - PANAMA!), or equally hawt with strappy sandals and tons of bling. I love it. I show it to my sis-in-law "Get it! It's gorgeous!! The color is perfect!" she says in her Irish accent, which makes it even MORE difficult to put back (what can I say? I respond to blatent flattery thrown at me in an accent). The dress is $59, which for this dress isn't bad, and I'm already thinking in my head, "Ooooh, I can wear it at the babies' birfday party this weekend, and I could pair my yada yada jacket with it, or wear tights with it in the fall, or..." completely justifying to myself that it really IS okay to get it. I succeed. Head over to the register, and the salesgirl rings it in. I look at the screen. $10.77. Wait - I'm thinking - she rang in the wrong thing and I am TOTALLY not mentioning it to her.

"Ooooh," salesgirl says, "Look at the price - they must've missed marking it down again." HOLY SH!TBALLS, I think, TEN FRIGGING DOLLARS????? I start screaming for Barbara to come over to the register "You will NEVER GUESS what this dress costs? TEN DOLLARS AND SEVENTY SEVEN CENTS," I don't even wait for her to answer.

I admit - I gloated the rest of the day, and will probably continue to gloat for a few more days. Don't have any pics yet of lil ole me in the dress, but found these online. Don't hate the playa, hate the game.


Dear Shan,
I love this story. It's my favorite kind. Unless you have a 2nd Chapter where there was a mime handing out chocolates and wine when you exited Anthro. Then THAT would be my favorite.