I had a gloriously girly experience yesterday while at the local mall. The mall has a fabulous kiddie play area, which was where Abigail and I were headed when a faux-ethnic purse caught my eye. It was in a surfer/skater teenage clothing store, which isn't exactly my normal couture, but I decided to give it a shot. While I didn't get the original purse, I found a cute one with some decorative buttons sewn on the outside. Then the sales-slacker (is associate really fitting when the guy had greasy dyed-black hair, black finernails and numerous tatoos?) informed me that the clearance accessories were buy one, get one free. And the heavens opened and an angel choir broke into song. How exciting! I've been lugging around a rather unattractive canvas tote, whose lining promptly ripped the day after I bought it, and I normally can't find a thing I like since I don't carry around half my home in my purse. But this place had cute stuff! So I am the proud owner of two cute purses, plus the little one my sister gave me a while back that's good for the occasional date.
Of course, one purse just happened to be made by Billabong, and the name happens to be on the outside, though I don't think too obviously. Brad, however, found this hysterical and said the word "bong" so many times over dinner that Abigail eventually piped up and repeated him quite delightedly -- unnerving what she picks up on sometimes! So, to head off the teasing post he threatened, I give you the billabong.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Welcome to my odditorium, a collection of curiosities made up of snippets about my life and occasional machinations on deeper subjects.
5 comments:
I'm sorry, I must stand up for your "sales-slacker". Having dyed hair and body art does not make you any less competent at that popular mall job, sales associate. In my own sales associate days at JoAnne's Fabrics I rocked the multi coloured hair dye. And after all, instead of just ringing you up he did clue you into the bargain to be had. Not many people working in a mall would bother to do that.
Oh, and I'm glad you jumped on the actual meaning of billabong. Mom's still got the Waltzing Matilda book if you feel the need to educate the family.
---The Sister
Oops, I must clarify. I did not intend to besmirch the work ethic of those with dyed hair. The associate was in fact quite helpful, and Abbey even pointed out, "He's a nice boy." I just didn't feel the word associate did this guy justice, too blah and mainstream, whereas he was straight out of Good Charlotte.
And sister dear, he was wearing a Smiths t-shirt. Would I dare be critical? :)
I would have to argue that dyed hair and a whole goth thing/alternative thing going on is just a part of an alternative mainstream, as in there are a variety of cultural "streams" in which to identify and encode oneself. It's kind of depressing, really... with the advent of the internet and mall stores selling stuff that you used to have to beg, borrow, or mail order in smalltown USA (not to mention sew, raid Goodwill, etc.), the world has become a small place indeed. My green tights and polyester dresses of yesteryear seem somehow quaint... now you can just step into Hot Topic and get yer storebought coolness in a brandname bag. Sigh. The same goes for home decor... I opened up this month's Better Homes and Gardens and the funky, mod patchwork style of the first section smacked of my old 60's decorating books... and now it's been aimed at middle America? Somehow I have a hard time picturing suburban houses decked out in Buddhas and silks, with funky crap stuck about... but there you go.
A., I must admit I had a similar thought when I saw just how much he looked like a guy from Good Charlotte or your-favorite-pseudo-punk-band-here. And I had to wonder if he even knew who the Smiths were or if it were just a "cool 80s band t-shirt" he found somewhere. Would he think me crazy if I started singing "Girlfiend in a coma"?
I know, I know, it's really serious... Hee. The hardest part is how I am drawn to the products and want them, even though a part of me recoils at the sheer commercialization of what used to be more difficult to procure... aighhh! The inner conflict!
Post a Comment