Friday, March 04, 2005

hey mister, can you spare 5400 dimes...

The main reason I should never even look in a store, in a window, at a catalog or even at an advertisment is that I will inevitably find something I “need.” This happened last Sunday with the Neiman Marcus insert in the Chronicle’s PaperCity. I’m sure you all saw the stunning and amazing printed silk Daslu dress in the contemporary sportswear section and were just as smitten as me. You probably even said to yourself, “Damn. You know who’d look fierce in that dress? Spots, that’s who.”
So why am I not clad in Brazilian designer silk at this very moment? Because I don’t have a spare $540 (plus tax) knocking around in last year’s handbag.
Thus, Amanda, Zoe, Big Chris and I have concocted the following options to raise the much needed funds:

1. Throw a fabulous “Buy Beth a dress” party and charge for entry, which is definitely possible and would be tremendously fun. But do the math. Why pay $20 bucks when you’ve partied with us gratis for years. This would have to be one killer party with all kinds of strangers and donated food and booze. Although, that is what I do for a living now, so I could make it happen. It’s a possibility. Moving on…

2. As Amanda is one-quarter Indonesian, we’ll dunk her in some water, throw some seaweed and live fish in her hair, take her door to door and claim she’s a Tsunami orphan. That’d rake in the cash but probably has some karmic repercussions I’d hate to deal with. At least I have a willing Indonesian…

3. Beg Big Chris for money, as he’s always blowing it on illiterate strippers and Popeye’s Chicken. Although, Chris owns white pleather couches. Purchasing a quality, well-designed piece of fabulous might his head explode.

4. I do have this degree in fashion design I’m not using. I could attempt to make the dress myself. Chris reminded me of the episode of The Cosby Show, in which Denise tries to make Theo a designer shirt for a fraction of the price. I believe it had 3 sleeves and a pant leg. I’m not the most talented seamstress, and might wind up with a really time-consuming dashiki.

5. Finally, I could just save up the cash and buy the damn thing. I mean, I’m so obsessed with it, I have it taped to my computer just so I can constantly envision myself swathed in silk and slingbacks, sipping mojitos at a Garden Party. But I’m so poor, any cash I come upon must go directly to the necessities; food, shelter, cable, etc.

Alas, the dress will never be mine. It will live an unrealized existence in my imagination, where I’m more fabulous, more fierce, and more flush than reality will ever allow…

1 comment:

A.P.S. said...

Oh Beth, my favorite sister how I love you. I sit here at work, bored out of my mind trying to fill the minutes by wrapping my bossed daughter, Natasha in packaging material, which the most fun I think she has ever had. When I then think to myself, "hey maybe someone posted a funny reply on Beth’s blog or something." But to my surprise I find a nice shinny new blog. After laughing out loud my boss David came down to investigate what was so funny. To make a long story short everyone at Stiel media thinks you a comic genius and you blog is now on everyone’s favorites list they all also think you’re beautiful and that were not related.