The Unraveling of Designer Ella * Shopping * Fashion * Blogging * Lifestyle

Since the cold of last winter in my cute beret hat, I’ve wanted earmuffs, but good earmuffs are hard to find. Burberry had ones to match my cashmere candy check scarf, but they were expensive … and had shearling lining.

Shearling is like fur from lambs - cute lambs. They’re farm-raised, but babies, and they’re not necessarily from free range farms (the only meat I’ll buy from the market, although I’m not too wealthy, is free-range all natural). Still, shearling is not the same brutal thing as fur. I can be anti-fur and okay with shearling, maybe, right? …

A trip into J. Crew browsing scarves led to me amazing earmuffs, grey to match my coat, or a tan plaid to “go” with Burberry, sophisticated … shearling lined.

I touched them. Nice. I put them on my head … and felt murder. Or really what I felt was the guilt of loving them sooo much. So soft! I put them down to ponder them for one day.

I ended up thinking about them nonstop for two weeks. Until I couldn’t wait to get them, no matter my morals. Until they nearly sold out and I snatched the last grey pair. Merchandise credit + $9 and they were mine. I wore them out of the mall (tags and all).

And my guy best friend approved okay but teased me, “go on, say f*** you to the sheep.”

But I love them, I can’t get enough of them, they’re the warmest earmuffs could possibly be - which practically is reason enough, right? And I rationalize that sheep are farm-raised, it’s not at all the same as fur. It’s just … lambs are so cute! I couldn’t eat something like that (or I hope I couldn’t), what am I doing?

My BFF also called me an eco-poser. I have been slowly declining in my environmentalism for years. I hated wood until I wanted to get a guitar (okay, I was a nutty little 12 year old), then leather until quality shoes and luxury bags (ooooooooh, leather so soft!). I’m a hypocrite when something I stood against suddenly and selfishly works for me.

Here I am again, unraveling in my identity over fashion.

You may know (but you probably don’t) that my cousin Jackie was getting married. I was a bridesmaid. I can’t really tell any of the good stories now that I’m back blogging more again, because all I can think of is one of them …. …. ….

Guess what happened at Jackie’s wedding?!

…. ….

Entry continued, read more »

There is so much to write about with my cousin’s wedding quickly approaching, but I don’t have time for it all—or much of anything. But another bit of news in my life is that I have a 2nd annual Birthday trip to visit my best friend, and now that those liquid restrictions have been adjusted for the better, I feel great about booking the tickets and going!

The whole thing is very silly, and no fashion blogger could put it better than The Fray’s Mochi,

I would have purchased this [perfume] while browsing around the airport in Houston. But, you know, it might have been a bomb.

How silly to sell it during the inane ban? How silly the ban is/was. And how smart of Mochi to put it in fashion terms! Great writer and addition to the blogging community!

All I know is I now can have an actual cold soda (warm + ice ≠ bubbly [but does turn to water]) and I don’t need to attempt to get a pharmacy label for my lip balm, after all. (Apparently those are two other things I’m addicted to, in addition to handbags.) I’ll be sure to pack a full baggie-sized amount of my needs.

Most recent bag: Coach Peacock Satchel v. Rainbow Tag Fob

As you may know, a family pet died last Monday.

The next day, one day ahead of schedule, my baby Coach arrived.

Naturally I wasn’t as excited as I would have been before. I have life in better priority now. I took time off to be with family that week, but it was not plain old baby-bag maternity leave, unfortunately.

Still, my love did grow for this bag, as that should be clear with me.

I have not named it though. I don’t look at it and feel a name. Do you want to help me name it?

I might want to give it a name that somewhat reflects the late pet, Natasha Grace, but I don’t want to give Tasha’s name to a bag. Even I don’t like that. Tasha belongs to her alone.

It could reflect that it is my baby of a bag. It could reflect the Signature. And it is a Hamptons, if that helps. Also, I’m open to either male or female names. Before it arrived, I was thinking I might go male.

Here is one large picture:

Bag I last wore: (pictured above) Coach Hamptons Medium Signature Carryall with Chestnut Calf Leather Trim.

So two nights ago, I really was very depressed. I decided I would go on an e-Handbag shopping hunt. I almost convinced myself to spend up to $1,000 dollars on a Marc Jacobs bag. There’s one I want, but I didn’t find it. That one’s expensive, and it’s sold out of shops, so I’d need eBay to bring it to just the price I thought would be reasonable, but still reputable.

Anyway, I really decided I couldn’t do it, even if I actually couldn’t because I didn’t find my dream. (Blue quilted leather push-lock pocket bag.)

Anyway, I knew that a high end bag could be found cheap on Bluefly, and I actually found something I’ve kind of wanted (although hoped for in Coach): a dark brown leather satchel.


BCBG Max Azria oxblood leather ‘Montana’ handbag

Look at the details! Isn’t it gorge? I already have a similar bag, but they’re so nice.

It wasn’t too expensive, and to me, it’s a practical buy, so I feel fine. My mania did wear off and I do believe I only purchased it because it’s something I would get anyway.

There was even a one-day sale that lasted ’til the morning. 20% off, I think, and I had won a couple coupon codes in their current contest and used one for free shipping! (And I really should use those coupons, right?)

Still, I was in such bad shape that night. It’s scary. Thank goodness I didn’t buy an expensive Marc Jacobs. Hopefully, until I’m paid a full income, my Marc by Marc Jacobs quilted velvet bag will be enough. I’m loving blue, though. Marc (by Marc Jacobs), time to come out with another cute bag to help me through poor times!

I have a “Dude.” He is the perfect guy friend for a girl, yet he’s not quite the gay best friend. For years, he seemed almost gay in lack-of-girl practice, but he’s doing better in romance!

He’s dating someone now and they just kissed! I was so excited.

Except that I got pretty jealous. I want to date. And sometimes I get sad over this certain love from my past. It happened again last night. I really got depressed like I haven’t in many months.

It was bad, I couldn’t sleep. I really felt like a drink. Oh, I mean a cocktail. Yes, in the middle of the night, alone. A cocktail. A fabulous one .. that’s it. Okay, just a raspberry wine cooler. But I. did. not. do. it. I don’t drink for the wrong reasons (since that one time at 18, and even then I only got a little “happy”). With my personality and issues, I need to be careful around alcohol (just in case).

Then I spoke to my Dude this afternoon, and he understood my enthusiasm was a bit much for his peck, and he knew I was sad. I can’t hide that in my voice from him.

We talked. We both know instinctively the same reasons why this past love is not right for me. We’re on the same wavelength. He really helped me, once more.

He then called later to make sure I was okay. He’s great.

Now why isn’t my Dude the one for me? He’s practically the perfect guy, but not for me romantically, we’re perfect friends. It can be confusing and difficult to have a male best friend, but we make it work.

How is he not perfect for me? Sometimes I get a little lost and wonder, but I know. It’s other people who don’t understand us.

But when he helps me, shows he knows me, and we both think just the same thing (in our own ways), I know I need him as a friend. It’s so important that I have that person in a friend. Friends are higher on the necessity list, as guys leave, and we need friends to get us through.

My Dude will never leave. And this all makes me think that past guy … it’s just not the same. It’s not worth it to get upset all over again over anyone, period.

Now, cheers to working things out, a toast to great friends. But I think this time I’ll just have an organic cola or a Silk smoothie. To be sure.

Also, what a wasted day! I need to do at least one blog entry!! And freshen up! I need to go prettify, first things first, after all.

Living with my family as I do, I have to bend with bathroom time. So it was necessary to tape record (no TiVo wahh) the “Hot Topics” from The View on Friday while I showered. I watched the tape Saturday night (I got that Chinese then sat down with my computer and a couple of recorded programs. That was my night, sad?).

The first topic brought up was something new to me: breaking up via text message.

What?! Has the world gone mad? Manners are necessary and admirable, people. Well, this guest host (Tanika Ray again) might just have not found her guy yet because of karma (as she was the TXT-Dmpr).

First the kids got cyber-intimate, now they’re replacing phone calls with key pads, and compassion & chemistry with electronic signals.

I usually love my technology (as I’ve demonstrated; computer, cable Internet, t.v. [no TiVo though]), but our world is taking it too far.

Just like a dieter with Forbidden Chocolate Cake or just plain old ice cream, a shopaholic should not hold herself back from the one thing she really, really needs right now (play Target music, but think handbags).

Even if the Shopaholic is allowing herself her desire, while she hunts down or waits for her perfect or dream item to arrive in the mail, she will shop more and splurge more on other not-quite-as-wanted items. It fulfills the junkie craving, but not for long.

Such is the psychology of shopaholism.

It feels great to breeze into a boutique or discover deals on eBay, but as long we we don’t have that IT item, after the high is gone, serious mania and anxiety set in.

All this is going on for me right now, and I’m just waiting for my bag to come in the mail.

They say waiting is the hardest part, which is true for a shopaholic. And you know what makes it even harder? Not knowing when your item will arrive, or if it has even shipped. Not knowing is also at the top of the list for hardest things.

Yesterday’s Bag (today, I’m probably stuck in due to my mums going to a wedding and the torrential downpours. I desire to go out, but also, I just want to order Chinese for one [and before dinner time, it’s wishing+hoping for my bag!] ;-)): Liz Claiborne Leather Metallic Croc-Embossed Pocket Bag

I’m going crazy!

No, moreso than usual, really.

I ordered the perfect (upcoming) bag from Coach, one I’ve wanted (and hunted like mad for) for a year and they’ve finally made it to my specifications (although not literally). It’s supposed to ship today, but I’ve still been wishing, hoping, and hawk-eyeing the mail carrier and trucks all week.

Today, I was ready to sing “Glory Glory! Hallelujah!” (Okay I already did, because I’m crazy—I was like praying for it to come.) I saw all various forms of shipping service trucks go by my neighborhood and got excited each time (they pass my street, then head back). But no. No bag yet.

The last thing I had ordered from Coach came in what seemed like two days, so I’m hoping Saturday!

Meanwhile, I’m all manic that I don’t have my bag yet. It’s bad.

Let’s hope it comes to my liking, and let’s hope I don’t repeat this process too soon after. I doubt that—like I said, this has been my perfect dream bag for months.

So, it’s like … no wonder I’m so anxious to get it, right? It’s worth the loonies.

I’m justified.

Now that that’s settled, let’s give me my reward for not being too, too unhealthy! Only my third (and final) bag this month! Good me!

I could not stop him. I could not stop him. I could not stop him.

The scary thing is the associate at Men’s Wearhouse argued me on the point. He was quite obnoxious. He knows fashion, yet somehow doesn’t know anything that goes against what his store sells (I think it’s all pleated-trousered suits!!!).

Everyone else agrees at the very least that stocky men look larger in pleats, including my Best Dude.

On the plus side he got really nifty shoes, a matching belt, pocket squares, and socks to match all those horrid trousers.

On the really, seriously, really negative side. He opened a credit card there and nearly spent $1,000.

The man does not even have an office job!!!

Man, I am not overpowered that much by Coach sales people, and bags are my thing! He hates fashion! (Or he used to, hmm.)

Well, sadly now I know where a good deal of my shopping weakness comes from.

Yesterday’s Handbag: Vintage Gucci: “G. Love”