Posted by Amanda on Monday
Mar 1, 2010 |
Classified as: Everything Else, Personal Development | Sub-Classified as: beauty and body image, navel gazing, style, the feminine
It wasn’t an unusual thing for me think. I guess that’s why I’ve been thinking it for the past three years, ever since my weight spiraled out of control. I walked into a club on Sunday night and realized that while I may be comfortable with my physical self in theory, in practice it’s a different game entirely.
So I asked myself the age-old question, “Am I beautiful?”
For my trip to the Gossip nightclub here in beautiful Vancouver on the very last night of the Winter Olympic celebrations, I traded my normally casual style for something that was all drama: a BCBG Max Azria tunic paired with zippered leggings from Aldo and a pair of six inch heels from Spring. My short, black hair was pliable and styled. My vintage jewelry from the 1970s was all flair. But I walked into this bar and even though my attire was killer, my body apparently wasn’t.
Vancouver is full of rail thin women. Beautiful, rail thin women with long, luxurious hair complete with huge, bouncing curls. I walk around the downtown core of Vancouver as often as I dare during the day. The women are in perfect three piece suits with perfect Prada pumps. I pull the zipper up on my hoodie to hide the fact that I hadn’t done laundry yet. I look at them intently, drinking in their fashion and coveting their fashionable success. I search their faces for the glimmer of happiness I was sure they would possess. But instead of virile women, full of life and happiness, I see twentysomethings with fine lines from anxiety and stress. I see thirtysomethings with a twitch that was reminiscent of my brush with anorexia. I see fortysomethings that held their bodies together with plastic surgery and a fake smile; their eyes were broken and empty.
In spite of their perfect appearances with their perfect attire and perfect bodies, each one of them was as unhappy with their bodies as I was with mine. But do we unite in the face of such adversity? No. We nitpick. We judge. We preen ourselves with such ferocity that it borders on obsessive. We are brought up on a steady diet of heavy sex appeal, the pull of celebrity, and the need to be perfect: perfect in body, health, and mind.
The perilous pursuit of perfection.
I walk into these nightclubs and expect to turn a few heads. Hell, why shouldn’t I feel like that from time to time? I seek approval from the young men (and women) that don’t find my particular brand of physical beauty to be worth noting. I could outwardly exude confidence until I’m blue in the face from the lies and still manage to find a way to be a wallflower. While preaching that I don’t need the approval of people, I try to dress well when going out. I never leave my apartment without (at least) foundation, most times more. I am a fucked up dichotomy in action: I want to flip off anyone who requires me to be status quo but damn it, I want to be pretty too. Even if I’m happily married, I bitch and moan that no one notices me.
I concede.
I’ve fallen into the modern trap: strength in value but value through conventional beauty.
The girls that throw themselves into tight dresses and high heels at these clubs speak of the beginnings of a descent into the maddening pursuit that is perfection. They are reinforcing that you can’t be beautiful unless you’re the status quo. I hate that damn status quo. I’ve been after people to break it down and burn it since I was a kid. It drives my Dad crazy.
So why, oh why am I stuck fighting the status quo when I wish that my body would just be what it used to be: muscled and toned? I want to be normal. But not. Ah damn. I’ve gotten myself in a right pickle.
Is it possible to accept your size? If you accept your size for what it is, can you love it? And after you accept and love your size (no matter if you’re a 0 or a 22), what then? Change? Designer clothes that you can’t really afford but need to have in order to feel like you mean something?
I grew up in a small city in BC’s Interior. Its style seems to be ten years behind. There are still 1980s haircuts running rampant as you walk around the downtown core. But let me tell you something about my hometown: those women were confident. They strutted their stuff down Victoria St and let nobody tell them that they were caught in a time warp. So what? They loved themselves and the way they looked. It gave them a confidence that I never had. I may rock the latest short hairstyles that are popping out of Europe. I may even rock some modicum of fashion sense here in Vancouver. But I’ve got nothing on those brilliant, out of style babes hanging out in Kamloops. They let you know that even if they’re not fashion forward or rail thin, they’re beautiful and that’s all there is to it.
Moral of the story: it doesn’t matter who you are, how you dress, or what you look like; happiness is not your pant size and confidence is not found in designer labels. It’s all about how to rock your frock. The rest be damned.
PS. Happiness is Not a Fish You Can Catch is my favourite Our Lady Peace album. It’s good sound, if you haven’t heard it before.
Posted by Amanda on Sunday
Feb 7, 2010 |
Classified as: thrifty shopping | Sub-Classified as: money, responsibility, style
This is the first post in my series on thrifty shopping. Read on if you’re interested in learning about achieving Thrifty Nirvana.
I’ve always been a thrifty shopper. I’ve mastered the art of shopping on a tight budget. I’m an expert at making ten bucks stretch for two weeks. It’s a rarity for me to pay full price for anything outside of restaurant food and video games (but let’s get real: if it’s a game, I trade-in my old games for it anyway).
I went to the local bookstore this evening, just looking to kill time before I met up with a friend of mine. After I’d paid for my purchases, the cashier looked at me and said, “You’re really thrifty. You got some great deals here.”
I smiled and agreed.
“I’m a sucker for a good deal.”
Smiling back, she handed me the bag and said, “I never buy anything on sale. I don’t have the self control. I just want it now.”
Immediacy: the affliction of our generation (especially).
Everything needs to be instantaneous or it’s not worth it. The web page must load immediately. If that skirt is fifty bucks, we try it on and just can’t wait. Or that book that we can’t live without? Just bought the hardcover for thirty dollars. Charge it, baby.
It’s become a badge of honour to be full price consumer.
Luxury is just that: a luxury.
Am I guilty of impulse buying? Damn straight. Happens to me all the time! The difference between my impulse buy and the girl ahead of me in line at The Bay is that I just dropped thirty dollars on an LBD while she dropped three hundred on a fashion forward dress that’s bound to be out of fashion by fall. But hell, if she can rock the dress well beyond its best before, good on her. Chances are that she’ll put the dress in her closet next to last season’s fashion forward dress and forget about it until she buys a new one for next season.
Even if you have millions to spend on clothes, shoes, and electronics, that doesn’t mean that you should. Celebrities go into debt trying to keep up their luxurious images. Many of them go bankrupt living a lifestyle that is well beyond their means. Regular, every day people go into debt and go bankrupt for the same reason. Debt is the condition of our culture. We’re all fighting to get the hell out of it, even Mike and me.
A little closer to home is the question I get asked fairly frequently:
“Amanda, can you teach me how to shop like you do?”
Take a knee, Padawan.
Five Steps to Your Thrifty Nirvana
That delightful woman I wrote about a little while ago (y’know, my mom) taught me everything I know about shopping on a budget. She gave me a discerning eye. I’d give my eyes to you but that’s kinda gross. Instead, let me share her wisdom with you.
One: Never, ever buy full price.
I was downtown Vancouver the other day, perusing my favourite shops on my way to the library. I came across three really beautiful blouses, all of which fit me amazingly (thank you, Urban Outfitters). Two of the blouses were new arrivals (read: not on sale) and the other was more than 50% off.
Guess which one I bought.
The other two went on my wish list. I wrote down the style and SKU in my BlackBerry so that I can keep an eye on the products over the coming months and wait to for a sale.
Two: Shop around for the best deal, especially on groceries.
That’s what those annoying flyers are for. Flip through the flyers to see who’s selling what and for how much. I know what you’re thinking:
“Amanda, I really don’t have the time to sit down and flip through flyers just to save thirty cents on a bag of frozen peas. Isn’t there an easier way?”
I’m glad you asked me, telepathic reader!
Head to the store and price check in the aisle. Honestly, that No Name rice is just as good as the expensive Basmati rice from the specialty shop down the street. Might even be tastier.
Goes the same for clothing, electronics, books, you name it. Get a second opinion from another store. Don’t be afraid to wait while you do your research.
Three: Exercise your waiting muscles.
I know the waiting game sucks. Buying the product right now is just as much fun as Hungry Hungry Hippos was is. Buying on a whim is a blast.
But, if everything you purchase is on a whim, you’re going to end up with stuff that you not only don’t need but you couldn’t really afford in the first place. Of course, some people see need fairly subjectively. For example, I really do need my computer(s). Other people could beg to differ that a computer is a need.
Four: Buy used. Trade-in. Swap.
Thrift stores are awesome for buying cheap, unique furniture that’s been gently used or restored.
If you’re a gamer like me, trade-in your old games in order to purchase new ones.
Trade-in your old consoles in order to buy new ones. Well, don’t trade in your NES or Sega. That’s just silly. But if you’re looking for a PS3, trade in your PS2; your XBox for an Xbox 360; your Gamecube for a Wii. Your new console is fairly backwards compatible.
Swap clothes, crafts/art supplies, and electronics with your friends. Tired of that blouse you bought last year? See if your best friend needs an addition to her wardrobe, as long as you’re the same size. See if you can snag that sweet dress she’s not wearing anymore.
Five: Figure out what a “good deal” is.
This was the most difficult part of learning how to shop. Originally, I thought that any kind of sale was a good deal. It must be, right? It’s on sale! All sales are made equal.
In fact, all sales are not made equal.
In British Columbia, a 15% off sale will pay for the taxes on the full price product.
Figure out what the mark-up is on the product you’re looking at. As an ex Best Buy sales associate, I knew which products were mostly mark-up and which ones were sold mostly at cost. Laptops and game consoles are sold barely above cost. DVDs, CDs, cables, and accessories are mostly mark-up; it’s where the store made its profit.
If you figure out what the mark-up is, you can determine whether or not the sale is a “good deal”.
Practice Makes Perfect (Sense)
This isn’t something that you’re going to be able to master in one shopping trip. It’s going to take discipline, patience, and dedication. These tips are the culmination of fifteen years of watching a Thrift Master at work.
What are your thrifty shopping tips?
