Right on the heels of a post about simplifying comes a post about a purchase.

*…hypocrisy, party of one…*

Actually, it isn’t because I balanced the scales with a deposit at Hoodwill that more than made up for it, but that isn’t the point of this story.  Please, indulge me.

As I’m sure you all have seen, clogs have made their grand re-entrance on to the world’s fashion stage.  I’ve seen them everywhere: runways, blogs, more blogs, a few magazines, etc.  I never have understood their appeal.  Honestly, I think they’re one of the most tragic looking shoes to ever be cobbled.  Ever.

That said, if I see anything enough times, I will become intrigued by it (see my Chloe Doc obsession of yesteryear).  If I’m intrigued enough, I’ll consider buying it just to see what all the hullabaloo is about.  It doesn’t happen very often, but it does happen.

In the case of the unfortunate-looking clog, this intrigue was met with some fierce opposition.  Ever since I first learned to walk in shoes other than sneakers, I’ve cultivated a (possibly irrational) fear of mules.  I mean, it’s half of a shoe.  HALF of a shoe.  I grew up playing a fair amount of sports and ankle support was considered paramount.  There is no ankle support in a mule.  A mule doesn’t really support anything.  It’s a toe shield with a heel.  Now, add that to having the great misfortune of seeing several ashy, cracked heels flopping up and down, unlucky women walking out of their mules, and unluckier ones twisting their poor, unsupported ankles because they were left elevated and naked unto the world.

Scary, scary stuff.

For weeks, I’ve seen pictures of Chanel clogs, pictures of Jeffrey Campbell clogs, pictures of chicks wearing newly purchased Jeffrey Campbell clogs because they can’t get Chanel clogs, and my mind always wandered to the place where I couldn’t understand why people were so obsessed with these strange-looking shoes that led to pain and suffering.

And then I went to Hoodwill.

A while back, I made a pact with myself that if I wanted to try out something trendy or strange and found it in a Goodwill, I could purchase it practically guilt free.  It’s saved me a ton of money from not having to pay retail for something that I’m probably not going to be wearing for a long time and I’m supporting the whole Goodwill jobs mission.  Everybody wins!

While I was browsing the racks, I saw them.  I saw a pair of clogs.  BONGO clogs.  I haven’t seen a Bongo item of clothing since I was in junior high school.  And Bongo was here.  In clog form.  In my size.

“This HAS to be the universe fucking with me,” I thought.

I showed dudeguy.

“Meh,” he shrugged.

I left them on the rack and instead bought a 70’s knit cardigan and some vintage glasses that are currently being fitted with lenses.  Dudeguy got a gray wool D Squared trench coat.  I’m still wondering who dropped off that coat.  If you knew where I lived, you’d understand.

We went home and I was still perturbed by what I’d found.

“Dude…they had CLOOOOOOGS.   Why do I even want these shoes?  They’re ugly.”

“You’re going back tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“You know I am!”

I went the next morning and the clogs were still unclaimed.   I picked them up and walked over to the cashier.  He told me they were 25% off.  I gave him $6 and was on my way.

I don’t know why I have them; I don’t know what I’m going to wear them with; I don’t know if I’ll wear them at all, but damn if it doesn’t feel good to spend $6 instead of $125 on an experimental piece of clothing.

Even better, I didn’t fall out of them when I wore them around the house.  Not once.

The moral of this story: if you’re iffy on something you want to buy, NEVER pay the retail price.  It is thriftable.  I promise.

Other moral of this story: everything you thought was true in 7th grade probably isn’t anymore.

I’m sure it isn’t hard to tell that I’m on a minimalism kick – the internet diet and another blog redesign in the most bare bones of layouts are probably the most glaring examples.  Right now, I’m focusing on clearing out the excess in several areas of my life and getting the most out of what I keep.

Thankfully, I’ve seen quite a few things on the internet that are reaffirming my quest to have and do less.  And since this is a sharing place, here they are for your perusal:

• Makeunder: How and Why
• Letting Go of Desires 
• Email Sanity: How to Clear Your Inbox When You’re Drowning
• this video because if we used only the words essential to what we are trying to say, language could reach its full potential as a tool for communication instead of passing time…like, you know? (found @ Coilhouse)

Typography from Ronnie Bruce 

 Is anyone else down for a little life simplification?

I guess we can all agree that Grace Jones trumps Amber Rose in the battle of the ‘Amazon balancing on one leg with a microphone’ photo, but I dare you to declare a unanimous victory in the battle of the Jennifers:

The original cast of Dreamgirls at the 1982 Tony Awards
(I see you Loretta Devine!!!)

 
Dreamgirls circa 2006

Now…who was giving off more raw emotion?  Extra points go to Holliday for the assortment of insane faces at the end, but I honestly can’t decide.

Grace Jones /  Amber Rose

I love this.  That is all.

I needed a break.  I really did.  The compulsive email & Twitter checking along with monitoring the etsy store like a hawk with OCD and nothing else better to do were driving me crazy.  How I even got to the point where I was manually refreshing three different windows in 30 second, 5 minute and 15 minute intervals is beyond me.

Yeah, it was a problem…folks wonder why I don’t have a Blackberry.  Can you imagine?!?!

For the last week, I gave myself no more than an hour and a half each day for what is usually 7+ hours of bullshit browsing, blog-reading, and all the other stuff I delude myself into believing is necessary and important.  Amazingly, my head didn’t explode and my urge to constantly be connected has waned.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

Sooooooooooo, how have you been?

Me?  I’ve gone about 80% vegetarian, have vowed to only shop at local farmers markets, and am never eating at a fast food restaurant again.  Blame Food, Inc. Better yet, buy/rent Food, Inc and join me.

Low Down Loretta Brown, Jump Up In The Air & Stay There

I can’t wait for the Return of the Ankh.  Man, oh man.

I’d also like to admit that I’ve been rocking the three dots on each cheek every day since I first saw this video.  Seriously.  I have.  Everyday.  Don’t judge me.

—

I’m on a much-needed internet detox and won’t be around much this week.  Social media has taken over too much of my life.  Not cool, yo.  Not cool.

I call it “The Stone Set”

—

…and Goldie now has a playmate.

Clickety-Click.

via ravenskar

I try to keep my political views separate from this lil blog o’ mine, so I’ll keep my thoughts short and sweet.  The Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell project by Los Angeles photographer Jeff Sheng found the direct route to my heartstrings and yanked them.  Hard. 

Don’t ask, don’t tell (DADT) is the common term for the policy stopping openly gay, lesbian, and bisexual individuals from serving in the United States military, as mandated by federal law Pub.L. 103-160 (10 U.S.C. § 654). Unless one of the exceptions from 10 U.S.C. § 654(b) applies, the policy prohibits anyone who “demonstrate(s) a propensity or intent to engage in homosexual acts” from serving in the armed forces of the United States, because “it would create an unacceptable risk to the high standards of morale, good order and discipline, and unit cohesion that are the essence of military capability.”  (via Wiki)

Each picture is titled with a name and place of significance to each person.  Each subject, in full uniform, is photographed with his or her face obscured. 

How that must feel…to have to conceal who you are while voluntarily putting your life on the line to defend a country where your rights are not fully respected. 

It boggles.my.mind.

Photos are from Volume 1, available for purchase here.  Volume 2 is in progress. 

photos via The Los Angeles Times / Thanks to Linda for the heads up.

—

REMINDER: I have no problem with dissenting opinions.  I have a MAJOR problem with people being assholes in my comment section.  Please be respectful.  Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks!

Somewhere between pageboy and dominatrix…yeah, I’m not sure what to make of it.

Sometime last week, I decided I was in dire need of grey high-waisted trousers.  As usual, Hoodwill provides.  This is one of two pairs I managed to pick up.  Soon after, I got a few blocks of cedar-scented wood blocks…because moth holes in your pants are NOT the business.

I haven’t worn these shoes in a LONG time…it’s a shame.  The world needs more lascivious references in everyday settings.

Wearing
Brixton hat & DIY turban-thingy
vintage CK leather smock-a-ma-jig from the WGACA swap
F21 tank
thrifted wool trousers
Promiscuous shoes

—

I’d like to give a big thank you to Dream Sequins for interviewing me for her Behind the Blog series.  If you aren’t already following her (shame!!!), you can find it here.

THANKS, D!!!!!