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Showing posts with label new york times. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new york times. Show all posts

Monday

jcpenney...i'm on your side

If you're in NYC, you've undoubtedly seen the JCPenny ads flanking every subway station and street corner in the last couple weeks. The grand opening of the store in Herald Square has been a long time coming--but apparently not anticipated by all. NYTimes critical shopper Cintra Wilson went to the newly opened "dowdy Middle American entity" and basically ripped it a new one. She says:

"J. C. Penney...was never 'get the look for less' so much as 'get something vaguely shaped like the designer thing...made in all-petroleum materials, and with a too-similar wannabe logo that announces your inferiority...'"

She also laments the lack of smaller sizes, saying, "There are, however, abundant size 10’s, 12’s and 16’s...it has the most obese mannequins I have ever seen.

"It’s like a headless wax museum devoted entirely to the cast of 'Roseanne.'"

Goodness, a bit harsh, no? This is a prime example of an upper class New Yorker as referred to in my earlier blog. How dare the American public not all be designer-clad New Yorkers! Plus, if she has never had to dip so low as to purchase any mass-produced knock-offs, she must not be relying much on her journalist income, which makes her and her opinions all the more irritating. Not to mention her blatant oversight of American weight/size demographics. I know firsthand it's frustrating not to find smaller sizes, but some things you're just supposed to think, not say...especially in that way.

Her article has prompted an angry outcry from Midwesterners and non-size-zeros alike. In a way, I'll admit I can see where she's coming from. I too once avoided JCPenney like the plague. It just felt...dirty. The lights were dingy, the aisles sad, and the mannequins often clothed in those too-short, too-wide shirts that middle-aged moms love for some reason. (Of course, Whitney Port has single-handedly brought those back in style thoroughly complicating the matter..)

I heart Ronson dress, on sale for $24.99

Still, I think she's overlooking major JCPenney milestones. In the past few months, I've actually made mental notes to go to their stores and/or look online. Why? Because they've made awesome, smart partnerships with designers like Charlotte Ronson, Nicole Miller, and Ralph Lauren (under the guise of American Living).




These are things consumers want, need, have to have, and can AFFORD--so what if it's polyester, Ms. Wilson? I've gotten nice, expensive shit that was polyester. And believe me, I watch What Not to Wear just as much as you--even Stacey would approve.

Wednesday

birthdays, rum and cheaters (oh my!)

This weekend marked my 22nd year of life--celebrated with Brazilian barbeque (an interesting treat and, I gather, somewhat of a present for the boyfriend who picked it out as well--no judgment!), a gathering of friends in our homey new apartment, and a night out.

It was also marked by too much rum, scummy guys, and hurt feelings... (Luckily the douchey guy was not mine.)

I got to thinking...it seems like we go through our lives thinking that once we close one chapter (graduate from first grade, middle school, high school, college), another less complicated one is going to open up. Is that ever the case?

No matter how far away I get from seventh grade, or the skeezy guy who took me to my first high school homecoming dance, I continue to be whacked upside the head in surprise by the crappy things people do to the ones they claim (pretend?) to love.

I know married women who claim all men stray, that we, the doting women, have to let them do their thing and they'll be back. Excuse me--No. Is monogamy really so much to ask? Should any of us ever have to subject ourselves to that humiliation, particularly when others know what is going on, and you have no clue?

I guess I can't target this just at the boys. Everybody cheats, right? The NYTimes has a new Wife/Mother/Worker/Spy article written by a woman who cheats on online games. Obviously, that's not what I'm talking about, but, still, this quote seemed so relevant:


“It’s much easier to cheat when people don’t really know who you are.”
Isn't that the biggest thing? We're drawn to people who are enigmas--we can't figure them out and that mystery is oh-so-sexy. We want to be the one who's in, right? The one who gets to see that special part of them. But in an instant, you could suddenly be forced to realize you have no fucking clue who that person is at all.

Nothing can be worse than that feeling: the instant where you have discovered something that destroys your entire perception of a person in your life, someone you thought was one thing and now, you realize, they might as well be your worst enemy... because who else could hurt you like that?

It all leaves such a dirty taste in my mouth, and endless questions about the fate of relationships.
Other than that, my friends, my girls, my boy: Thank you for a lovely night. (Seriously!)