Brown Beige and Blingy

Hair blowing in the breeze, just like a bona fide model!

One of my favorite pastimes in recent months has been to scour eBay for lots of pre-owned clothing. By "lots," I mean, clothing sold in a collection....Although admittedly, I have been doing it lots.

My selection criteria are stringent. The lot must have at least a few things I think would actually fit me and I would actually like. The total cost, including shipping, must not be more than 3$ per item. And it must fit within my budget at the time. Which means, at least right now, no 100-piece lots for 200$. As you can imagine, lots that meet my requirements are hard to find. So far I've purchased 2.

The first yielded a pretty nightgown, a cute tan blouse that I'll probably post here at some point, a pair of boy-short bikini bottoms that I have been wearing under skirts when biking, and a black short-sleeved top. The rest of the 78 pieces, I am slowly reselling for–as of today–a 7$ profit! Wahoo!

The second yielded, among a few other things not worth getting excited over, the brown tank top seen in the photo above. I never would have bought it by itself (with the gold sequins decorating the neckline, it is a little too flashy for my style), but since I had it anyway, I kept it. And wore it one day with the khaki skirt that I got two years ago on sale at Rainbow. The skirt has beads dangling from a sort of ropelike belt, which just happen to perfectly match the tank top.

I wore it with a pair of sandals I've had for years, but rarely wear because their colors are so hard to match. However, they mostly matched this ensemble. So altogether, I think this was a victory for color coordination.

The Unfashionista needs your help!

I'm sure you remember the post a few days ago, where I bragged about all the great bargains I discovered while shopping at Burlington Coat Factory. Well, just today, while passing the store, I noticed a sign advertising a contest...in which you are supposed to brag about all the great bargains you discover while shopping at Burlington Coat Factory!

What could be more fitting? Of course, I entered the contest, using an abridged version of that inspired blog post. (Seriously, how can one adequately express the wonders of a great shopping trip in just 250 words!?) I did my best, but I need votes to win!

So if you have a few seconds, cast a vote for the best Burlington Brag out there: the one by Valerie H.

Clothes aren't the only thing Unfashionistas care about, you know.

The Unfashionista, looking pensive.

You've seen it all before.

The white skirt featured prominently in "Black House White Market" and "Not to be confused with 'hip'" (box office hits, both of them).

The green sleeveless top ... well ... has never made an appearance here, but was used ad nauseam in the photo shoot that sourced a vast quantity of my Facebook pictures.

And the sandals, which you can't see, are the same ones that I got for an unbeatable bargain just 2 weeks ago.

But the real reason for this post (other than to provide a medium for innumerable self-promoting links) was to show off the haircut.
A few days before these pictures were taken, I got a new haircut, and absolutely loved it. After months of having short hair, I finally got it styled the way I actually wanted--face-framing and thickest at about the level of my ears, rather than poofing out at the bottom.

The secret to getting this look is (hopefully not 4 haircuts spaced 2 months apart and a hearty helping of good luck, but) asking for lots of layers. Be adamant that you do not want your hair to poof at the bottom. Your stylist will look at you like she's not sure what you're saying, which will worry you, but stick to your guns. And later, when you think your  stylist is done, and then she keeps cutting more and more hair, you will worry even more. But don't panic and toss your head as horses do, because the results of that will be even more worrisome. Instead, just hold on to your hat and let her put on the leave-in conditioner when she's done. You will end up with a haircut that will make you want to gaze pensively out of a window while you photograph yourself.

All good Unfashionistas would think twice before splurging on a haircut, but as I have learned from this experience, the stylists at The Hair Cuttery (15$ for a cut, 3$ for a blow-dry) are just as adept as the stylists at Fancy Salon Down the Street (30$ for a cut, $10 more for a blow-dry). As long as you make it clear what you want. It has taken me over 10 years of getting haircuts to learn this simple trick.

Incidentally, today my hair doesn't look so hot--either a testament to my stylist's skill at getting me to come back soon, or an affirmation that shampoo that comes in the form of a bar of soap is pretty uncommon for a very good reason. Yes, I've been washing my hair with "hair soap," straight from India, with rather questionable results. It's a good thing I've got that marked-down-to-2$ bottle of Infusium waiting in the wings, ready to repair my 'do when the situation gets too dire.

The heights of fashion

For the benefit of loyal reader Geoff, I have refrained
from displaying a foot in this shoe.

Doesn't every woman dream of being tall? Of towering over her companions like some kind of overgrown supermodel? Of being saddled with monikers like "Amazon" and "Giantess?"

If she does, there's no better way to accomplish her goals than with shoes like these. With a skyscraping 5.5-inch heel and 1.5-inch platform, these sandals will make any midget look tall. On a girl whose 5 feet, 6 inches already make her above average in height, these shoes send her soaring right past "tall" and into the territory of "statuesque."

Usually, the top of my head is level with
the top of this wardrobe.

When you are standing over six feet tall, you suddenly become "imposing." To tone down the effect, shoes like these should be paired with the most harmless-looking of girly attire. This Unfashionista chose an ecru sundress bedecked with strawberries, bought for around 6 dollars at a thrift store several months ago. (Few people are thinking about sundresses in the middle of November, so it's a prime time to find quality secondhand items to bulk up your wardrobe.)

The strawberries, I thought, went nicelywith the pink hair, which is floppedso attractively over my face in the photo.

Shopping with the Unfashionista

It all started with an old floral skirt.

The Unfashionista (who will be speaking in third person today for some unfathomable reason) had sold off all the short-sleeved tops that matched it last year, and wanted something new – lightweight for summer, modest for work – so she could bring her old standby (7 years young and still fresh as a sunflower...minus the part of it that had gotten caught in her bike tire and now sports a few blackish streaks. More on this topic of skirts and bike tires later.) back into active duty.

She went out on a shopping trip, intending to hit up Shopper's World for their reliable (if slightly low-quality) collection of 3-to-4$ polyester T-shirts. But when an Unfashionista shops, she shops hard. And when she passed Burlington Coat Factory on the way there, she thought, "Why not?" It's never a bad idea to look for bargains. It's a good thing she did, because she hit the bargain jackpot!

Check out how many markdown stickers have been slapped
on these babies! Looks like they were just waiting for an
Unfashionista (who doesn't mind repairing some damaged
beadwork) to come rescue them!

She moseyed through the purses, but rejected them all for being too "bulgy" or having too much metal. She perused the hats on clearance, but they were too pricey. She wandered through the jewelry and came across a set of pastel-colored aluminum bangles. She'd been wanting some bangles (she had some, but they were in colors that never seem to match anything). These bangles were full-price (5$), and she just wasn't certain they were worth the investment. But then she noticed the sandals. White beaded flip-flops for just 3 dollars! She'd been wanting some semi-dressy flip-flops all year, and the price was unbeatable. That decided her on the bangles. If you're going to spend, might as well do it wholeheartedly!

The Unfashionista never shops in the full-price aisles, but heads right for the clearance department. And there it was that she discovered the 7$ paisley dress (vaguely mod, vaguely hippie, very her style) and the 4$ short-sleeved black sweater. She doesn't usually go for short-sleeved sweaters because they're not warm enough in winter and too hot in summer, but this one was lightweight enough, she thought it might work).

If this sweater were not so black, you could see the details like the cowl neck (crazy feature--never sure what to do with one) and the adorable bow at hip level (bows...some day I will learn to tie them so they don't lie sideways). Those sleeves, though...awkward. I may have to trim them a little at the bottom so it doesn't look like some frilly muscle shirt.

She saw some other things that were a great price but sadly looked terrible on her. She was tempted by other things that were not a great price (15$ blue top that looked awesome, but was definitely too fancy for her lifestyle, and 12$ embroidered black top which looked even awesomer but was fortunately too small).

Following this, she made her way to the checkout aisle, where she disliked all the sunglasses. Fashion tip: If you have a small head and chubby cheeks, oversized glasses are not for you.

Finally it was time for the purpose of the trip: a cheap yellow T-shirt. Indeed, Shopper's World did not disappoint, and the Unfashionista found just what she was looking for. And so all the delightful shopping of the entire morning culminated in the outfit you now see, in all its blurry finery, to the right.

My favorite pair of jeans, now short!

Not too long before I moved to Maryland in 2005, I found an adorable pair of pink jeans at Plato's Closet. It didn't take long before they became my favorite pair of pants—they were already soft and broken-in, they stayed up without a belt but still gave me plenty of leg room (a frequent problem I have with jeans is that they are designed to be skin-tight, which I hate. Consequently, I usually buy them a size or two too large, causing the waistband to be much too loose), and, heck, they were pink! At that time, I felt like walking around in pink pants was a pretty daring thing to do.

Well, five or six years of being my favorite certainly didn't make these pants any newer, and by the end of 2010, they were faded in spots, faintly stained in others, and patched at the knee. I knew their end was near, but I was reluctant to let go my only remaining comfortable pair of pants. But their fate was sealed when I splattered blood all over them in an unfortunate accident just after Christmas.

Fortunately, before I threw them in the rag box, I observed that the upper portion of these pants was relatively unscathed. Sure, they were no longer the brilliant color they used to be, but at least the fading was pretty even throughout. So I set them aside for repurposing.

This morning, I finally finished them. It was an easy fix. I trimmed them to mid-thigh length, hemmed the bottoms, and voilà! A new pair of shorts for my rapidly-growing collection!

Yoshi!

Did you ever want something so bad, you would sell out your soul and your entire value system to have it? What would cause you to stoop to such degeneracy? Drugs? Riches? A Lamborghini?

For me, it's Yoshi.

Not too long ago, I decided I could no longer function as a human being if I did not have a T-shirt with Yoshi on it. I have some T-shirt transfer paper, so I thought about making my own Yoshi shirt. I scoured the Internet for pictures of that huggable dinosaur. I found some, terribly lo-res, which I would have had to beef up with significant reworking in a vector graphics program. I was prepared to put in the hours for such a noble cause, but then I remembered what happens to T-shirt transfers after a few washes. They crack and look awful; thus I concluded I'd have to resort to commercially produced apparel.

And now it's confession time: After some serious online shopping, I finally settled on a Yoshi shirt that would meet my needs. It was 21 dollars, after factoring in shipping. Twenty-one whoppers! I shock myself. You understand that usually my upper limit for any T-shirt is 5 dollars. In making this purchase, I'd not only completely tossed thrift to the wind, but I'd done it for an overly commercialized Nintendo character! My shame ran deep.

But then on Saturday, my new T-shirt made its first public appearance on the streets of Annapolis. I was walking along the sidewalk in a semi-daze, as is my habit, when a kid and his parents passed by. The kid shouted, with all the enthusiasm of an 8-year old with no inhibitions, "YOSHI!" That broke through my stupor. I had just gotten the reaction every unfashionista dreams of—unsolicited (thoroughly, genuinely excited) approval of my outfit! Victory is mine.

You know what's scary about all this? With my Yoshi craving assuaged, I'm starting to feel the burning need to have a T-shirt with characters from Cave Story on it. Have I developed some strange video-game-fan-fashion fixation? Am I going to need an intervention? Only time will tell.