MyPoints just sent me a ‘free shipping + points’ offer for…wait for it…
Pinch me, y’all!!!
I find my adoration of All Things Coldwater Creek somewhat sad. That I have likewise been a fan of Talbots (another, erm, ‘classic’ retailer) since I was in high school does not seem to make me feel any better about the fact that I adore a store which caters to…hmm…ladies who are…not twenty or anywhere near it, anymore.
But what I love about Coldwater Creek is that they are not an ‘old lady’ store. Oh look, Gladys, a lovely pink knit skirt suit, won’t that look nice with your support hose and faux pearls! (Uck.)
They have kicky colors and funky outfits…but they aren’t over the top. They aren’t things that I look at and snort, “Yeah, right, that’ll look fab-OO with my four-pregnancies-worth of belly skin hanging over the top!” (Sorry. I know. That’s a very tough visual to deal with. Believe me, I know. Try seeing it every time you take a shower…and have I mentioned in the last eight minutes that I truly loathe the new trend in having your pants only come halfway up your patookis?)
You can look very mature, or you can look like what I am, to wit, a person who may grow old eventually, but will never grow up.
The only problem I have with them is that they do That Thing, where they call something that used to be ‘large’ a ‘medium’, and what used to be ‘small’ is now ‘petite’. I know, we’re all getting bigger, blah blah blah. But it annoys me because I don’t know what size to buy. I bought a medium because hey – I’m medium. But no! Medium is way too big! And at first I celebrate because hey, this is a good thing, right? But then…the small was too big?
Coldwater Creek, I am not stupid. I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me feel like the Queen of the World because I can say, “Well, actually, I wear a size two!”
But it’s a damned lie. I do not wear a ‘real’ size two. In real terms, I wear a six with the occasional drop to four in slacks. Your calling what is really a six a two is deceitful, and it annoys me.
But not enough for me to stop shopping there. Oooooooh no. It does not annoy me that much. So maybe later today, I will stop by to admire the catalog and spend money in my head.
(And off she goes, humming If I Were a Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof…)
Models of the Atom
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