My Torrid Affair with Haute Couture

It all started with a beautiful wool coat. In a pretty shade of winter white, it caught my eye on the Anthropologie website. It had a hood cascading from the back, and delicate barely-pink ribbons descending in the front. It was too expensive - everything at Anthropologie is too expensive. As my roommate astutely observed, "You're so shocked by the prices in the front of the store, by the time you get to the sale section in the basement, you think '$80 for a shirt, that's nothing!'" I checked the website every day, willing the coat to go on sale with my mind powers. Eventually my obsession progressed to the point that I had to see the coat in person. I didn't want to pay for shipping, so I looked up the closest Anthropologie, which was in Troy, MI. I called to see if they had the coat - they didn't. Not willing to give up, I called the next Anthropologie on the list in Birmingham, MI. They didn't have the coat either, but then the girl on the phone told me that they could ship the coat to my house for free since they didn't carry it in their store. Free shipping was a girl's dream come true! It was like getting 5% off the coat, so I was sold, and I gave her my information. She told me they would call me when the order was complete, and I was just twitching with excitement.

I waited for a week with no calls and no charge to my credit card. I called the store at this one week mark, which just happened to be black Friday. I knew the store would be swamped, but I didn't care because somebody had to track down my coat. The girl on the phone told me she didn't know which coat I was talking about and couldn't find my order, but promised to call me back after she talked to the catalog people. When I got home later that day, I rushed to my computer to check for my coat on the website. It was gone, M.I.A, auf'd! I finally found it on my wish list where it had been marked down 50%!!! I aggressively clicked the mouse to get it put in my cart, but ALL SIZES WERE SOLD OUT! I was pissed. I had ordered it a week ago, and now I would never get it... never. I made a few more calls, but my spirit was broken and nobody could help me since they had no record of my original order.

I started to look at a lot of different online shops that night to fill the void left in the wake of my missing coat. I soon stalked many items online that were outside of my budget - a red Hayden-Harnett tote bag, gold crocodile Dolce Vita heels, Provocateur Joe's Jeans, comfy suede Ugg boots. By the next day, I had signed up for e-mail notifications for discounts on 4 or 5 websites. Friends were giving me secret discount codes for various websites. It was all very hush hush and drug dealer-ish. "Go to the website Lunaboston, and put in the code 'Gretchen' before you leave for a deal" sounds an awful lot like "Go to Larry on the corner of Dorr and Byrne and say 'Veronica' and he'll give you a great deal on some crack."

I sat through the daily incomprehensible drone at school about EKGs and cardiac drugs, daydreaming about fashion. After an afternoon EKG workshop, I needed a release and I went to see a late showing of Enchanted. I thought the movie was really cute and enjoyed the way Disney was making fun of itself. When I read Slate Magazine's review of Enchanted, with its critique of the shopping montage towards the end of the film, I felt like I had been personally attacked! I dismissed the author as a feminist disconnected with the average 6-year-old girl's fantasies of princesses and designer couture. I was defending my obsession like an alcoholic justifies that extra drink.

My sister asked me if I still wanted to go see my coat in Michigan, and I told her it was gone. Then I thought maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to go to a bigger mall with more things, so I organized a trip with my sister, my 6 months old nephew, and Mariam to go to the fancy Sumerset Mall in Troy, MI. We got to the mall on a Friday afternoon around 2:30 pm, and later around 8 pm, things really started to go downhill. I found one really cute sweater, but it took an hour and a half to get there, so I was determined to get some sort of life-altering addition to my wardrobe. We eventually progressed to the section of the mall that was outside of everybody's budget, short of British Royalty and celebrities. After looking at several exorbitantly expensive purses, my sister picked up a $995 Dolce and Gabbana white patent leather purse exclaiming, "$995 what a deal!" We all jovially repeated "only $995" over and over again, giddy and weak from walking all day and skipping dinner. My nephew started spitting up in Saks Fifth Avenue all over my coat and then my sister's coat - it was time to leave. In the end, I got one sweater, Mariam got one sweater, and my sister got the 5 for $25 underwear from Victoria's Secret that she could have gotten in Toledo. We left the mall starving and unwilling to wait an hour and a half to eat at PF Changs, walking into the cold and cruel air of Detroit. My sister ran towards the car so my nephew wouldn't get cold. Mariam and I walked slowly with aching feet yelling, "Go on, you can leave me here. Save yourself, I can't go on anymore!!" This was rock bottom of my shopping addiction. We drove home and ended up stopping to eat at Red Lobster by the Detroit Airport at 10 pm with aching bellies.

When all was said and done, I got one coat on clearance and the sweater from Michigan. I ended up ordering a few things online with discount codes and sent them all back for refunds unable to justify even the discounted price after seeing the items in person. With every arriving disappointing online purchase, the drive to get more haute couture lessened - like Nicorette gum taking of the edge. I don't think I'll make anymore clothing purchases online. Things are basically back to the way they were before the white coat came through my life turning things upside down. Everything is more bohemian, without a desire for too many material things and a want to give money to like, charities and stuff. It's totally like Cher's epiphany in the movie Clueless when she starts helping the people that went through some sort of natural disaster and lost their skis. Anyway, the moral of the story: Don't do Drugs!

--By Farrah, who these days would rather spend her money on music equipment for the experimental sounds of her new band "Exaggerate" (or "Opsonize", we haven't decided yet) which is basically her and Abby goofing off
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