Who are you?
I need to know.
I think Anthropologie is a nice looking store. They have very artfully dressed mannequins and it always smells nice. Not Victoria's Secret nice, but several notches over Hollister.
But are you all serious with the clothes?
I have deluded myself, on occasion, to trying on a dress or two. And every single time, I either look like a six-year-old (and I'm sorry, but it stopped being acceptable to look like a six-year-old on my seventh birthday) or a character from Grapes of Wrath. And I know that everyone is suddenly so VINTAGE all of the sudden, but Depression-era vintage? For reals? I for one do not aspire to scrubbing my wardrobe on a washboard. Which, for your information, would destroy most Anthropologie clothes.
You know how Tyra refers to ugly-pretty on America's Next Top Model?*
I have concluded that Anthropologie is hideous-cute.
Not a good thing.
And not only that, but the price. THE PRICE.
Okay, I will admit -- today I went to Anthropologie because I want this sweater:
I really, really want it. I have a fuchsia satiny dress that I got for ... wait for it ... THIRTEEN DOLLARS at an outlet store. The problem is that it is slightly too dressy for church or work, and it's sleeveless, which in MoLand is a big church no-no. So the awesome cheap dress hangs, unworn, in my closet, and it glares at me accusingly every Sunday when I pass over it. (Yes. It glares.)
So when Sandy visited and I saw the above pictured sweater at Anthropologie, with flowers that would totally match the Awesome Unworn Dress, and which would also look great with several pairs of my work pants, I coveted it. Hard core. Which I would feel bad about, but a quick google search revealed that there is no Bible-sanctioned punishment for the Big C.
Plus, something non-hideous-cute at Anthropologie? So rare.
But then I saw the price.
The idea of non-stand-alone clothing costing $88 makes me a little ill. I'm not going to pretend I've never gone nuts over an article of clothing, but jeez, a cardigan? A dress, a suit jacket, a pair of particularly ass-camouflaging jeans, maybe. A SWEATER? A sweater I can't even wear without something else?
So I passed it up, sure that I'd eventually find a comparable, yet more reasonably priced, cardigan in time. I totally haven't, so six weeks later, defeated yet oddly excited, I returned to Anthropologie.
I'm not sure if I'm sad or relieved that they have sold out of the awesome, overpriced sweater. Probably relieved. It would look amazing, but for crying out loud ... $88.
I consoled myself by getting two 50%-off three wick candles at Bath and Body Works, a store that actually knows how to have a sale. And now my apartment smells way better than Anthropologie.
* Smile with your eyes. You know you watch it.