Tag Archives: Fashion

Tip of the Day

If your black Vans sneakers look really cute with your shorts at work but are kind of uncomfortable, don’t wear them.

The devil’s shoes.

Your feet will not eventually “get used to them,” nor will they stretch out enough. They already made your toe bleed once, so stop.

You will seriously injure some tendons in your ankle while making a short sprint to the ferry (or the washroom to beat the lineup, I can’t remember) and you’ll be limping for an estimated 4-6 weeks.

Not days, weeks.

You’ll have to wear your blindingly-white and bulky New Balance sneakers anyway, after you get injured.

Heed my warnings for a pain-free summer. I’ll be limping my way to the subway for the next month or two.

Summer 2k12 in style

Most of my problems in life revolve around shoes

At the ripe old age of 20 (that counts as a 20-something right? shh!), I have realized that the amount of shoes I need to cover every situation in my life is infinite. I should probably not attempt to have all possibilities covered,  because it will never happen. Living in Canada and having to deal with snow, ice, and the dreaded road salt almost doubles the amount of shoes I need. (Seriously, do you know how much road salt this goddamn city uses? You can walk down the street on a dry, snow-less day and still come home with your shoes covered in stains. It’s magical.)

Over the past few months, I have needed shoes for everything from gardening to going to “the club”. I’ve needed job interview shoes, walking the dog shoes, winter job interview shoes, winter boots, spring sandals, fancy flats and casual flats.

My biggest issue is WHAT SHOES DO I WEAR WHEN? Maybe I’m a little “slow” when it comes to this, but I’m lost. All of these situations require a specific style of shoes. I can’t imagine a hiring manager’s face if one were to walk in with these on (and these happen to be some of the easiest to find or buy shoes EVER. Why? Why these?) :

Will someone please tell me where I’m supposed to wear these, other than accompanied with a black spandex 20cm long skirt at a club?

Apparently I’m also cursed, because every single time I go to the mall looking for something specific (jeans, a new school bag, low-heeled black pumps), I wind up finding 10 beautiful sundresses I resist buying because I’m off track.

I won’t find anything I need that week, of course. The next week I’ll go back looking for sundresses, instead I’ll find 10 pairs of perfect black pumps but no sundresses.  Pure evil.

Also, lets not forget the fact that I am “blessed” with wide size 10 feet, that sometimes spill over to the size 11 rack (I’m 5’10”, okay?).  Some places don’t even carry size 11s.

The worst part is when, in January, I’m being marketed shoes that look like this:

Oh, for fucks sake.

I can imagine some idiot shoe designer, sitting in his LA office, thinking “oh, we’ll give those women in cold climates some boots for the winter! Open-toed to cool down the feet, of course, and suede because suede really holds up to salt and snow.” You suck at your job and should be fired.

I suppose they’re okay for the fall, but the whole idea that I’m supposed to wear these with no socks (for the open toes) makes me cringe because they’ve got no ventilation.

I even went to the big warehouse sale, the Petite Feet Shoe Sale, in Markham the other day. I was looking for some multi-purpose black, low-heeled pumps, and I came home with these:

But they turned out to only be $40 so it’s totally okay I have no idea where I’m going to wear them, right?

I mean, should I just say “screw it,” only buy heels for now on, and be that crazy lady on every reality show who wears heels everywhere no matter what?

I guess I need to cut those “CROCS EVERYWHERE THEY’RE AWESOME SO COMFY!” people some slack, eh? Haha, no.

Sidenote: if you have size 6 feet and live in the GTA, check out the Petite Feet Sale at the Markham Fairgrounds this weekend. Seriously. Half the warehouse is dedicated to you lucky bitches.

Ankle Pants and an Awkward Childhood

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in the past year or so, these so called “ankle pants” have sprung up everywhere. Instead of going into any trendy store and expecting everything labelled “pants” to be full-length, you now have to compete with these icons of idiocy. Let me explain.

I am 5’8″ (I think. Maybe 5’9″?) and I’ve always been the “tall, lanky one.” I haven’t always loved it. Already being an awkward, greasy, acne-ridden pre teen with glasses, being the tallest one around wasn’t helping anything. It felt like I was spending years trying to find pants that wouldn’t make me look stupid with one or two washes. Nothing looks dumber than bellbottoms (sorry, “flares”) that are 2 inches too short because you bought them at Wal-Mart and they shrunk. Pair that with clunky, black, thick-heeled “dress” shoes, also from Wal-Mart, and I was a mess. I’d spend whole days tugging at my pants so they would actually cover my ankles and hide my bright white socks.

The tactile sense of even trying these things on and feeling the horrible air on my ankles is enough to make me uncomfortable. It’s against everything I’ve ever thought was true and just about low-end fashion.

However, stores like Urban Outfitters, I guess I should thank you for making “awkward” cool again, in a way. Maybe there’s an 11 year old girl right now who, also awkward and greasy, doesn’t care that her Wal-Mart skinny jeans shrunk two inches because it’s cool. And that’s one less horrible thing to worry about when you’re one of less genetically gifted.


*Tangent Warning* I still hate them with a passion. What are you supposed to do in the winter? Don’t even get me started on open-toed boots.


…Seriously, though. What idiot thought these were a good idea? I bet they were invented in L.A.
If it’s cold enough for boots, your toes will freeze off. If it’s warm enough for an open-toe look, imagine all the foot sweat that is saturating the sides of those things. *Tangent Over*
Maybe I’m just too practical for the world of fashion.

Oh, How The Tables Have Turned: Me vs. Old Navy

Today, I was the dumb customer. Yes, I went shopping. And yes, I pulled a “classic” (two, even) move, completely being a moron. I apologize, Old Navy employees. It was never meant to be this way. I’m on your side, I swear.

After trekking to the salon in Whitby (here it’s all sketchy $5 Chinese haircut places or “weaves-r-us,” so I go east) I decided to stop by the mall and check out Old Navy. Sales, yay!

and save, I did.

I picked out some various awesome tops and sweaters. One was a nice, thick cable knit cardigan. Kind of old-man style, but in a good way. When I got the cash, it rang up $36! I pulled  the old “what, that’s not on sale? THERE WAS A SIGN!” stunt. To be honest, Old Navy, if you’ve only got certain cable knit sweaters on sale, don’t put them all on the same table with a sign that says “Cable Knits on Sale!” Assholes. Whatever. I brushed it off after the manager went to check the sign, and told the guy to remove it from my bill.

I then handed him my $10 off coupon from the flyer, paid, and left the store.

Looking over my receipt while walking towards the Freshly Squeezed, I noticed that the coupon had actually not come off my bill. “Figures, the guy was slow and not paying attention. Dammit,” I thought to myself. So I got up the nerve the trudge back in and politely let them know the problem. The manager apologized and started typing away into the computer. She had to manually refund all of my items before re-charging me with the coupon. It took her a while to get everything in the computer, and I awkwardly stared at the walls trying not to feel like a douchebag. “Whatever, it’s an hour’s pay!” I kept trying to justify my actions.

She scanned the coupon. Looked at the screen for a few seconds, then at me, then back at the screen.

“Actually, hun, this coupon is for if you spend over $100 dollars.”

…I froze. I was humiliated. I looked over that coupon so many times! When I worked in a grocery store, I wanted to punch people in the face who didn’t read their coupons. Now I was that asshole.

Somehow I got it in my head that it was $10 off $50 or more last week when I shoved it in my purse. What the hell? What is wrong with me?

Well, it wasn’t completely my fault. Neither the cashier or manager even knew how much the coupon was for until after this kerfuffle, and it’s not like Old Navy has a lot of coupons floating around.

The next time someone uses the wrong coupon for some tulip bulbs, I’ll try not to hate them deep down inside. Instead, I’ll turn my hate towards the fact that I really should be in school, and not hating every moment of my life working as a lowly cashier.

Revelation acquired.