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March 18, 2005 Making Friends Current Obsession Well, I’ve got the Gucci sunglasses but no Gucci-holder. Stupid consigner consigned the beauties without the case, and they’re so damn big they don’t fit any normal-size case. So of course, yours truly put on her best consignment-bought designer digs and trotted on down to Nordstrom in my wanna-be-Blahniks. I waited patiently while an old biddy checked out and then put on my sweetest smile for the salesgirl, whose hair was so bleached you couldn’t tell where her face ended and her straight-ironed locks began. I unfurled my Guccis. “I was wondering if you could do me a big favor?” I asked. “I got my sunglasses here a while ago, and I just lost the case. Do you perhaps have an extra Gucci case I could have?” Blondo frowned and squinted at my sunglasses. “When did you say you got these?” “Oh, not too long ago,” I said. “May I see them, please?” she asked, pink nails grasping. Uh-oh. I thought about turning tail, but remembered I had nothing to be ashamed of. My Gucci’s needed a home, damnit. I handed them over and she examined them carefully. With a smirk, she handed them back to me. “You didn’t get those here.” Crap. Game’s up. But I have this problem – when I’m caught in a lie, or in a compromising position, or in fake designer clothes, I tend to lie more and more until the accuser gets so turned around they can’t even remember why they cared that I was making out with their boyfriend – or whatever. So I dug in and explained to Blondo that in fact I had gotten the sunglasses at this very counter about a year ago and have the tax receipt to prove it – yes yes, I remembered very clearly, because I bought them to use for a video shoot – I’m a video stylist for Joss Stone, she lives here now you know – and anyway she saw the Guccis in Vogue and had to have them for the video. So I bought them from a salesgirl who was definitely a little more customer service-oriented than you, my dear, and Joss wore them for her “Big Girls Like to Fight” video – you know the one? And she ended up giving the sunglasses to me at the end of the shoot as a thank-you gift. So you see? I know I got them here. I thought I had Blondo for sure with that story, but – well – suffice it to say that Blondo and I got in a shouting match over what year Gucci started adding serial numbers to their sunglasses (how dare she call my Guccis fake!). Also, Penelope Fairmont (my favorite bar name) is not allowed in the downtown Nordstrom for six months (it’s not my fault that display was placed so precariously), and my Guccis still don’t have a case. Maybe I’ll start experimenting with papier-mâché. Today’s Celebrity Gossip Apparently Paula Abdul clipped a car on the freeway and zoomed away (eerily foretold in her smash hit Straight Up – oh oh ohhh or am I caught in a hit and run oh ohhhh! love that song). See, this is much worse than getting temporarily banned from Nordstrom. And actually, Penelope’s banned, not me. I could always wear a blonde wig and large sunglasses (though perhaps not the Guccis). Profound Thought After my third glass of Shiraz, I have begun to feel badly about the scene at Nordy’s. I’m sure Blondo was only trying to protect the store’s stellar reputation, even if she was unnecessarily snobby about it. Maybe we’re not so different, she and I – clearly we both share of love of designer accessories, although she can’t tell the difference between real and fake. And even with her unfortunate highlights, her hair was enviably smooth. Maybe I’ll write her a little apology note and ask her what hair products she uses. Unfounded Anxiety What if there is a real Penelope Fairmont? And what if she tries to shop at the downtown Nordstrom and gets kicked out on her tush? Oh dear. I know, I’ll look in the phonebook… There IS a Penelope Fairmont! But she’s 82 and doesn’t shop much anymore. Her daughter lives in Wisconsin so she doesn’t get out very often, and in fact, she needs some new clothes. She hasn’t bought a new sweater in five years, can you imagine? So I’m taking her to lunch tomorrow as a way of saying thanks for protecting me from slimy cheeseballs all these years, and then we’re going shopping at Macy’s.
Comments? Indecent proposals? Righteous indignation? |
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