Shopping bans are the flavour of the season. For some reason, the clever folk out there thought it would be amusing to torture us with new season goodies while at the same time telling us that restraint is the word du jour. I wondered if I could do it for a week, but quickly gave up on the idea, mainly because my partner just looked a bit wistful when I told him, like I'd mentioned a golden age sans-shoe cupboard I had once let him glimpse into but that would never come to fruition. The idea is, you buy nothing except food and pay bills, and find a newfound calm and possible inner glow in the reversal of your spending habits.
Bollocks to that. Sorry, not going to set myself up for abject failure. The rush from shopping might be shortlived but the glow you get from wearing your gorgeous new boots takes at least half a season to fade. Anyway, the point is, I sort of did succeed this week, without even trying. Sort of. See, we had nice family shopping trip on Saturday morning, in order to purchase (wait for it) sensible *shudder* clothes to take on our upcoming trip to New Zealand. Now, if you're not a sporty lesbian-ish type with a penchant for unflattering pants, the choice in travel wear is fairly limited. (Note: nothing wrong with lesbians, I just mean the minimally feminine). So, while I did not purchase anything sparkly all week (success!) I did end up purchasing quite alot. But it's rare that the Mr of the house is willing to go clothes shopping and even rarer that he spends more time in the changeroom/browsing the racks than I do, so I had to seize the opportunity and just make occcassional detours to Sportsgirl to refresh and hope that they had lots of nice warm and chic knitted beanies so I could avoid a flat polar fleece headwear option (they do, and I did. Phew.). Sensible travelwear surely counts as a must-have, right?
A few merino tshirts for me, a very expensive jacket for Mr and a cute set of matching gloves and scarf for Charlotte later, I was too afraid to check the bank balance. Then it dawned on me that we had just bought techy New Zealand-made items that are all the rage and apparently worth the price tag...to take right back to NZ. I'll spew if they have some sort of Southern Alps merino factory tour where you can buy half price items. The fabrics are all very nice and stuff, it's just they insist on making mostly butt ugly colours in yukky cuts. For non-sporty types like me, it doesn't work. How hard could it be to create something mildy flattering/fashionable out of these magical materials? (I'm sure the magical capes in Lord of the Rings were just some sort of Gortex. Sooo going to ask Frodo when I see him over there. Yeah.). Basic tees, yeah you can get away with. But pants? Talk about big arse factor (and not becuase I just have a big arse, seriously it was the pants). Coupled with a baggy fit and some sensibly chunky walking shoes, I know in my heart of hearts I would be warm, snug and dry, but the vainer outer layer could not cope with the feeling of looking and feeling le frump. So I put it to you, Kathmandu: for one, stop making your shit in China; and another, make something nice out of them! Men can get away with the sporty/outdoorsy/cargo sorta look. Some women can; most can't. Can it really be that hard?
Wait, it gets better. I also braved the techno dancefloor that is Supre again (sans child, she cried when I pointed it out so her and Daddy went ahead to order babycinos and wait), wrangled my way through the overstuffed rails to the Sporte section (seriously it's called that) to buy trackpants *hands rush to mouth in shock*. Stretchy ones with an overlapped waistband, as I felt this was the better option over simply showing up to my new stretch class in leggings and a crop top (eew). Though, some girls showed up to work at Supre in this outfit, so possibly nobody would notice. Or care, obviously. What's the hotline for the Fashion Police?
Showing posts with label trackpants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trackpants. Show all posts
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, August 1, 2008
3 Things I Hate About..erm, Me
First and foremost, the Disclaimer: this is not an angsty, I-just-bought-a-MyChemicalRomance-cd sorta post. Those of you who know me know I'm far too up myself to dislike anything in particular about moi. But this week I have done 3 (well, maybe 2.5) things that I am totally against:
1). Wore trackpants in public. SHIT I hear you gasp! Seriously, I did. And a little someone with the initals TLC won't let me live it down if I don't post about it. There is a genuine reason: every Thursday lucnhtime I take my daughter to swimming lessons, and becuase our teacher is a nice lady called Kym and not the overly enthusiastic Laurie Lawrence, we don't just chuck the toddlers in the pool and let them figure it out; us Mums get in too. In the middle of winter, this makes it totally freezing when you get out, get bubs dressed and rush to the car. Usually this is done ever so stylishly with a towel wrapped around one's bottom half, some sort of jacket thrown on top and whatever shoes we came in. Hey, you saw it here first. BUT This week I decided I was sick of getting the car seat wet with my soggy towel on the way home, so dried off as best I could before the rampaging two-year-olds bolted for the change room door and thus the pool, and put on my incredibly comfy (OMG) "yoga pants" ie 3/4 tracky daks with elasticised waist from Target. Far out, how many things are wrong with that sentence? "comfy" "3/4" (in terms of leg length) "tracky daks" "Target" "elasticised waist"...I want to cry just reading it back. The waistband is one of those foldover ones, sorta like maternity pants but feel really nice to slip into to relax, or possibly do yoga, which I've never tried because I am about as flexible as a brick wall. Target, because I refuse to spend alot on leisurewear which I neverwear. 3/4 leg length is not flattering on anybody under 6 foot who eats, despite what the catwalks are currently trying to tell us. "Comfy" is not usually my first priority when choosing an outfit, sad but true. But in my defence, swimming lessons for tots is a type of physical activity AND it looks possibly slightly better than a towel-skirt. Hmph.
2). I went to Supre. My friends and I used to pop in all the time to get a top for Saturday night or a cheap shopping thrill, but either Supre has got younger and more fluro or I've gotten older and more muted in my colour palette, or both, but it's a scary, scary place where the shop assistants can't hear you over the music, flash their undies over their jeans and vomit every current trend over themselves before hitting the shop floor. If I wanted to shop in a nightclub, I would happily get off my tits, shout indecipherable things at strangers and unknowingly overpay for completely shitty items. But, like most of you, I prefer to be reasonably in control of my senses when shopping. Today however, I got a text from my best shopping buddy "Supre have 50% off their sale stuff, tops from $2.50!" and I was literally across the road, so I pushed through the decibels like a headwind and entered. Aside from being nearly blinded by the colour choices and claustrophobic from the racks and racks of stuff absolutely jam packed, I picked up 3 nice little basics for $11. And I MAY even go back and get a few more to sell on ebay for a lot more than what I paid (this works a treat, trust me). Waiting in line behind a large girl who could barely fit between the racks and in front of a family of bogans from Devonport discussing how Noice their purchases were and how expenshiv Jeanswest is, my daughter looked up at me, grinned her naughty grin and started shaking her head vigorously to the music, doing an unknowing but completely spot-on mockery of the throbbing toons. She's 2 and knows these tunes are for when Mummy has a lot of wine and/or vodka, and no other times. (Seen the segment on Chaser where they go have a rave in Supre? Brilliant). The girl behind the counter said something but I couldn't hear, so I just handed my card over and hoped she'd said the amount I'd worked out in my head. I couldn't even lip read because it wasn't just the top band of her knickers poking out over jeans, it was like she had decided to experiment with layering or some kind of underwear-as-outerwear-read-my-undies trend. I came out happy with my bargains but also with a headache and a burning desire to go calm down in a boutique. Or even Jeasnwest.
3). Well it's only a little one, or half one, but I forgot to post yesterday...sorry! There's too much awesome new stuff on the website to occupy me instead.....
Next week stay tuned for my lowdown on the KidsinStyle trade show this weekend in Melbourne!
1). Wore trackpants in public. SHIT I hear you gasp! Seriously, I did. And a little someone with the initals TLC won't let me live it down if I don't post about it. There is a genuine reason: every Thursday lucnhtime I take my daughter to swimming lessons, and becuase our teacher is a nice lady called Kym and not the overly enthusiastic Laurie Lawrence, we don't just chuck the toddlers in the pool and let them figure it out; us Mums get in too. In the middle of winter, this makes it totally freezing when you get out, get bubs dressed and rush to the car. Usually this is done ever so stylishly with a towel wrapped around one's bottom half, some sort of jacket thrown on top and whatever shoes we came in. Hey, you saw it here first. BUT This week I decided I was sick of getting the car seat wet with my soggy towel on the way home, so dried off as best I could before the rampaging two-year-olds bolted for the change room door and thus the pool, and put on my incredibly comfy (OMG) "yoga pants" ie 3/4 tracky daks with elasticised waist from Target. Far out, how many things are wrong with that sentence? "comfy" "3/4" (in terms of leg length) "tracky daks" "Target" "elasticised waist"...I want to cry just reading it back. The waistband is one of those foldover ones, sorta like maternity pants but feel really nice to slip into to relax, or possibly do yoga, which I've never tried because I am about as flexible as a brick wall. Target, because I refuse to spend alot on leisurewear which I neverwear. 3/4 leg length is not flattering on anybody under 6 foot who eats, despite what the catwalks are currently trying to tell us. "Comfy" is not usually my first priority when choosing an outfit, sad but true. But in my defence, swimming lessons for tots is a type of physical activity AND it looks possibly slightly better than a towel-skirt. Hmph.
2). I went to Supre. My friends and I used to pop in all the time to get a top for Saturday night or a cheap shopping thrill, but either Supre has got younger and more fluro or I've gotten older and more muted in my colour palette, or both, but it's a scary, scary place where the shop assistants can't hear you over the music, flash their undies over their jeans and vomit every current trend over themselves before hitting the shop floor. If I wanted to shop in a nightclub, I would happily get off my tits, shout indecipherable things at strangers and unknowingly overpay for completely shitty items. But, like most of you, I prefer to be reasonably in control of my senses when shopping. Today however, I got a text from my best shopping buddy "Supre have 50% off their sale stuff, tops from $2.50!" and I was literally across the road, so I pushed through the decibels like a headwind and entered. Aside from being nearly blinded by the colour choices and claustrophobic from the racks and racks of stuff absolutely jam packed, I picked up 3 nice little basics for $11. And I MAY even go back and get a few more to sell on ebay for a lot more than what I paid (this works a treat, trust me). Waiting in line behind a large girl who could barely fit between the racks and in front of a family of bogans from Devonport discussing how Noice their purchases were and how expenshiv Jeanswest is, my daughter looked up at me, grinned her naughty grin and started shaking her head vigorously to the music, doing an unknowing but completely spot-on mockery of the throbbing toons. She's 2 and knows these tunes are for when Mummy has a lot of wine and/or vodka, and no other times. (Seen the segment on Chaser where they go have a rave in Supre? Brilliant). The girl behind the counter said something but I couldn't hear, so I just handed my card over and hoped she'd said the amount I'd worked out in my head. I couldn't even lip read because it wasn't just the top band of her knickers poking out over jeans, it was like she had decided to experiment with layering or some kind of underwear-as-outerwear-read-my-undies trend. I came out happy with my bargains but also with a headache and a burning desire to go calm down in a boutique. Or even Jeasnwest.
3). Well it's only a little one, or half one, but I forgot to post yesterday...sorry! There's too much awesome new stuff on the website to occupy me instead.....
Next week stay tuned for my lowdown on the KidsinStyle trade show this weekend in Melbourne!
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