The WTF Snuggie blanket works!
Sure, it’s ugly as all get-out, and it’s not likely to heat up your sex life. And, yes, it’s basically a backwards robe, but it’s long enough to cover my 6′ tall husband’s legs and feet without being so bulky that shorties like me feel engulfed.
I *heart* my Snuggie blanket with sleeves, and so does VH1. Even more: we *heart* how it’s let us shave heating costs.
But that doesn’t keep us from chuckling at this video.
I stopped today at one of those little boutique stores that’s cropping up everywhere these days. You know the kind: a place that’s only slightly bigger than a walk-in closet, run by some entrepreneurial soul who — whether through choice or job layoff — decided they’d go into business for themselves. Strike it rich. Make a buck. All without having to sit in a cubicle wearing a tie.
The proprietor of this particular place was clearly a 30-something kid who believes he should have been born at least two decades earlier so he’d have been in on that whole “Summer of Love” and Woodstock thing. At least then his tie-dyed shirt would have been “in”.
Patchouli scented the air. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida shook the walls and rattled the New Age crystals in their nice, brightly polished display case. Someone had used a Sharpie to draw peace symbols in the twin circles of the Mastercard logo adhered to his cash register.
Everywhere — absolutely everywhere — huddled displays of artisan-quality stuff. It was piled on shelves, and on top of the stuff that was piled onto the shelves. It stood in stacks on the floor, sprawled over the check-out table, and rose up in leaning towers of goods along the walls.
Interesting stuff. The kind of stuff I’d ordinarily want to spend hours picking through: herb-flavored cooking oils and home-grown potpourri; cottage-milled soaps and beeswax candles; handmade papers embedded with flower petals and one massive glass jar after another filled with organic, hand-mixed teas. The kind of stuff which, because I know the love that’s gone into it, I’d ordinarily be willing to spend a small fortune on.
Yet it all looked like crap.
Oh, it wasn’t dusty, which I suppose should be surprising in light of how jumbled and cluttered the place was. But despite all of the care that had clearly gone into fashioning each item the place offered for sale, the packaging was so much of an after-thought that I started to doubt whether everything was really as unique and carefully crafted as I thought.
Look, if you’re going to try selling artisan-quality items, what you’re selling isn’t so much that you’re capable of doing something, but that you’re capable of doing it better than your buyer could do on their own. Take herbal tea, for instance. I can grow herbs (or buy them at the Farmer’s Market). I can dry them, I can chop them, and I can combine them into a tea. That does not make me an artisan. It’s the skill involved in the making of the product that’s for sale. My tea will taste all right, but it won’t be remarkable. I expect remarkable stuff if I’m paying an artisan’s prices.
But if you want me or anyone else to pay artisan prices for your goods, make them look better than mine would. Don’t dump the tea into a Ziplock bag which you’ve written the price on with a Sharpie. Take the time to find quality packaging — recycled is always a plus — and make it look professional. Stickers don’t cost a fortune, and yet a high-quality, four-color label that’s been die-cut and carefully affixed to your product can often itself convince a customer that you really are an artist, and not just some out of work slacker trying to drum up beer money in his spare time.
I’ll never know whether those canisters of herbal tea contained the perfect blend or not. There just wasn’t much to tempt me into trying them at the prices the store was asking, not when they clearly didn’t have enough pride in their merchandise to display it attractively and to give it appealing yet professional packaging. Still, maybe I’ll get back there someday if only to listen to Iron Butterfly and breathe in some patchouli.
For everyone disappointed by the news that there will not be a second stimulus check coming this month, it’s probably tempting to take heart in Obama’s promised tax cut ($500 for individuals, $1000 for couples).
Except that a tax cut won’t make much of an impact on the nation’s economy, much less an individual’s wallet.
Over the year, this translates to an addition $44 each month, per person, or about $22 in the average paycheck.
Twenty-two dollars per month. Do you feel economically recovered now?
I have to admit, I got quite the chuckle out of the Americans in Paris video that’s going viral on the net. Seriously, what couple hasn’t experienced some kind of distraction in the midst of what should be a terribly passionate kiss?
On the other hand, the video revived my travel jones. It’s been over two decades since I last visited Paris, and just seeing it in the background was enough to ensure I’ll be renewing my passport this month. I’d always promised the Venomous Daughter that the two of us would take trip to Europe when she turned 18 (an age when, I hope, she’ll actually be a fun traveling companion). With that day just six months away, it’s now time to get serious. Not that I’m suddenly feeling cash-flush, mind you. It’s just that I figure if I start scrimping and saving now there’s a chance we’ll be able to afford that trip as promised.
The folks at LastMinuteTravel.com are making that easier, as they can make anyone’s travel plans easier, by offering last minute prices in advance. How do they do it? That’s not my business. But let’s just say their air travel and hotel package rates are so low that treating my daughter to a 2-week trip Paris in June to celebrate her high school graduation will actually cost less than the car she’s been pestering me for. And, unlike the car, I get to enjoy Paris with her!
Oooh, la la.
Pssst. I did something radical today: I bought stock. Quite a bit of it, for quite a low price.
Via Reddit:
If you bought $1000 of stock a year ago, you would now have:
$91.28 if you bought Washington Mutual
$37.50 if you bought Neomagic
$21.29 if you bought Freddie Mac
$20.79 if you bought Fannie Mae
But, if you had purchased $1,000 worth of beer one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the cans for the recycling REFUND… You would have $… 214.00 in cash.
So the best investment advice is to drink heavily and recycle.
It’s called the 401-Keg Plan.
As any woman who has gained weight can tell you, shopping for clothes is depressing. There are few things I dread more than needing a new outfit, except perhaps having a root canal or another child.
See, women’s clothing — and by that I mean females over 35 who aren’t still trying to dress as if they aren’t — comes in two flavors: attractive and fashionable clothes for the slender, and hideous baggy things in polyester for those who are not. (As if polyester for people prone to sweating a lot makes sense, right?)
As someone who loves fashion, I find myself staring at the awful stuff for larger-sized women and shuddering. Ergo, I usually plead a migraine rather than put myself through buying the kind of clothes most stores sell for women whose hips attest to too much time spent at a computer (and fridge).
Then again, until now I hadn’t seen the plus-size clothing at Bodacious Boutique. Founded in Dallas-Ft. Worth back in 2004 by Paula Guthrie, the boutique offers many of the same styles the skinny girls get to wear but cut to flatter a larger figure.
Take their plus-size swimsuits, for instance. Oh, sure, there are the standard bathing suits with a “who’re you trying to fool” skirt attached. But they also offer many attractive, flattering styles that come sans skirts (and some caftans for those of you who can’t stand being that bare).
There’s a surprisingly large assortment of designers, including Vikki Vi whose wrinkle-free clothes are indispensable for travel, and even selections of wearable art and flax clothing. Although prices aren’t always easy to locate when you click on an item (look in the right corner of the pink bar above the photo), you’ll find they’re surprisingly reasonable.
And you know what that means, don’t you? That’s right: skinny girls don’t get to have all of the fashion fun anymore!
