J.Crew, J.Who?

Shopping in England provides unique challenges, to put it mildly. 

To be sure, there are gems to be found, like the fab Dolce & Gabbana culottes I found at a few weeks back at my favourite vintage shop, Corina Corina in Warwick; or the blissful retail therapy that is Oxfam online.

But, overall, I find "high street shopping" here very disappointing. Shops, like the ever-classic Laura Ashley and fun 'n funky White Stuff, with their exorbitant prices and ridiculously miniscule dress sizes - that offer no allowances for the female form - have left me lamenting the loss of my favourite Manhattan shops: J.Crew and Anthropologie. 

That is until now!

The DEB and I have been invited to a wedding for one of his work colleagues. It's a big 'do' and everyone is getting "glammed up." There was talk of us girls hiring sarees, but that plan was very short-lived. For weeks, no months, I have been fretting about what to wear, wanting to make a suitable splash. Indian weddings are very colorful affairs. And so, I was determined to branch out, and not resort to wearing my bog standard black!

I search hopelessly to find the perfect dress, and quite by accident, I stumbled across the perfect solution. I discovered the British fashion solution that is Monsoon. 

Monsoon is an odd hybrid: part J.Crew, part Anthropologie. Passing their shop in the Stratford-upon-Avon high street, initially, I'd  thought, "No way their stuff will work for me."

Being a shapely petite, I had previously been put off by some of their wares, which seem to lean toward a sort of "ethno-tribal" aesthetic. (That's fashion code for "large prints and crazy colours.")

But, quite by chance, I stumbled across "the perfect dress" by Monsoon. A seller on eBay UK who goes by the moniker "HiYouTart" caught my eye. She seems to have been peddling

Monsoon gear on eBay for donkey's years.

On offer recently, was a "silver-grey, silk linen, pencil shift dress" with my name on it!

 

Not a colour or shape I'd go for normally, but something about it said, "Yes, please!" Without hesitation, I bought it. I waited with bated breath until it arrived.

When it arrived, everything about it was right: the cut, the colour, the fabric, the empire waist, the cleavage-friendly ruched detailing at the wide neck-line...and, it fit like a dream

Trinny and Susannah would be proud!

Success at last!

That settled, the quest for bag and shoes begun. To my surprise, lightening struck twice, and I had immediate success after perusing the website of another popular British fashion retailer, Boden.

Boden's website was breath of fresh air, their look is very J.Crew. And I found the most delightful shoes.

Boden seem to speak my language, here's the description of their cute Embellished Heels:

There’s more than a touch of Marilyn Monroe to this desirable pair, and the kitten heel means you can run for a taxi and still pull off a glamorously dignified look. The single strap fitting across the toe will make your legs look even longer, and the wink of diamante clinches the film-star appeal. Kittenish.

Well, meow, indeed!

And of course, gorgeous matching bag...Hubba, hubba!

In Hamlet, Polonius advises his son Laertes to shop wisely as "apparel oft proclaims the man". Apparel always proclaims the woman, or so we are lead to believe. 

I think the one of the greatest gifts of aging/growing up is that you stop caring about tren

ds and what others think. You discover your own style, what works, what doesn't; what suits you and what you like.

So, let's just hope that our recent revelries  at The Boar's Head pub for "National Cask Ale Week" haven't taken it much of a toll! 

It will be just my luck not to fit in the "perfect dress". 

Trust me, it has happened before! 

Beers be damned! 

 

The “Feel Good Factor” (No snobs allowed!)

Monday, 9 February 2009

Who knew? For once in my life I am actually ahead of a trend.

I sat down this snowy, Monday afternoon to have a cup of tea and a leisurely read of yesterday’s Sunday Times. I pulled the Style magazine gleefully from its cellophane wrapper, and, I swear, just as finished perusing the cover, which declared: “Jourdan Dunn on ‘Why Oxfam’s the New Prada’” – there was a hefty knock on our front door. It was the postman, dutifully delivering two large parcels: Flower girl dresses that I’d just purchased last week, from, you guessed it, Oxfam!!

Let me explain, I somehow missed that vital female shopping gene, the one that enables a woman to endear countless stores (and shop assistants) for hours upon hours, the capacity to survive as the last girl standing in the quest to “shop till you drop.”

Frankly, and I know I risk my forfeiting my “Girl License” here, but, truth be told, I get bored. And my feet start to hurt. I get cranky, fussy and tired. I recall a notable shopping episode some time ago, in downtown Manhattan, when I was out with my wonderful, dapper, gay, male best friend. He stopped, mid-shopping stride, in T. J. Maxx, and turned to me and enquired: “Do you need your diaper (nappy) changed, or what?”

Online shopping was invented for me. But, while I may lack the essential female “Shop till you drop” gene, I do have the standard “never trust it, unless you can see it” fear that most people have about buying things off their laptops.

So, as the fates would have it, I had to venture out. A few weeks ago I decided I wanted to have the D.E.B.’s two utterly adorable, and truly angelic goddaughters as Flower Girls in our wedding. Thus began a quest to find two, identical Flower Girl dresses. Easy-peasy, I thought.

Who was I kidding?! While I was in town working at the Shakespeare Trust last week, I did a brief investigation, just to see what was out there. I dragged myself through Laura Ashley (nothing) and Monsoon (nothing). Then, took a deep breathe and tackled the big guns: Debenhams and BHS (British Home Stores). I was quite surprised at what I found. Beautiful, gorgeous, divine, little dresses. The stuff of little princess dreams. Taffeta, Organza, Silk, Chiffon, Charmeuse. You name it. With prices to match, of course.

That’s another point. Why, I often wonder, that no matter what the item is, if you place the word “wedding” or “bride” in front of it, the price suddenly quadruples! And, people are willing to pay it! Don’t get me wrong, I adore “The Angel Goddaughters,” and want them to have nothing but the best. But let’s face it. The girls are 7 and 10 years old. So, at best, on the day, they will wear their dresses for what? Roughly 3-4 hours, tops? 

And, at the worst, they will probably have outgrown these dresses altogether before they even have another opportunity to wear them a second time. Ta da! Another instance of: “Romance vs. Practicality.” Add to this equation one’s desire to be frugal and thrifty, and you have the recipe for a right royal headache!

Enter: Oxfam.  The solution was right at my fingertips.

“The time is right for charity shopping to come into its own.” – Sarah Farquhar, Oxfam Retail Operations

Oxfam now has a brilliant online charity shop, where you can peruse the fashion (and other) offerings of a variety of its numerous shops across Britain. Who even knew that they have a dedicated Bridal Collection?! As an added bonus, once you find an item you like the look of, the website gives you details and contact information for the local Oxfam shop offering that item, so it is possible to go and see the item in the flesh before you purchase, if you so wish.

What’s nice about this online shop is that you are able to see a selection of items from Oxfam shops, beyond the one in your local vicinity. What could be more heavenly: Thift, convenience and a cup of tea.

Now, to do the impossible: Find two identical Flower Girl dresses in two different sizes. To be honest, I held out very little hope of finding the like on Oxfam.com or another such outlet, i.e., eBay and etc. I mean, come on, TWO, IDENTICAL dresses? Well, worth a gander at least, I thought. And what do you know! Voila!  

Lo and behold, Oxfam had a flurry of flower girl dresses, and--shock of century-- two identical BHS flower girl dresses in sizes 7-8 and 9-10. (God, I hope they fit!) Before making the purchase, I dropped a line to the Oxfam shop in question (in Market Harborough, Leiceistershire) to check on particulars: were the dresses White or Ivory? Were they truly identical, as they were listed separately? Detailing? and, etc.

I had a friendly and speedy reply from Kate, the manager. Kate kindly sent me additional photographs of the dresses, including close ups of the lovely silk bodices, and more images of the detailing. Her note was so sweet, she said: “I’m sorry to inform you that the dresses are not solid Ivory. There is a bit of lilac embroidery on the silk bodice. Hope this will be okay?”

I nearly fell out of my chair, and you could have knocked me over with a feather! Suddenly, these only “hopeful” dresses, where now utterly ideal! (The DEB and I have decided on a “lavender” theme for our wedding.)

Kate signed off by saying: “If the dresses don’t work for you, feel free to return them.” Excellent. Without taking a breath, I logged on and purchased them both immediately.

After I made my purchase, another message from Kate:

“Thank you for your purchase, Alycia. You will have an extra bright smile on your day because you know that you haven't been fleeced, but also because those dresses are putting food in the mouths of babes.”

You can’t really argue with that.

Kate also shared with me the extraordinary recent example: Her shop recently sold a St. Patrick wedding gown, brand new. (Yes, she did say a brand new St. Patrick) Original price - £1,800.  ($2,655.75 USD) Oxfam price - £750. ($1,106.18 USD) Kate added: “Ok [the Oxfam price is still] a lot of money, but it will go an awfully long way.”

Due to snow and Royal Mail Second Class parcel delivery, I have been eagerly awaiting my Oxfam parcels for almost a week. They arrived today, and they are even mre gorgeous than I even imagined! They are absolutely flawless and in immaculate condition. And what a bargain! The same dresses available from BHS’s wedding collection (bhs.co.uk) are £65.00 ($96.00 USD), each. I got them from Oxfam for £14.99 ($22.09 USD) each!!

Not only is this the smart option for the thrifty-minded, it is a choice that, as Kate said, comes with a guaranteed feel-good factor. Everybody wins.

Have a look: Oxfam Bridal Collection

A mirror, or a friend

Two kilograms.

That’s roughly 4.4 pounds.  Or, as I prefer to see it: That is two, whole bags of caster sugar!! That is how much weight I have lost in precisely seven (7) days.  Yes, I have succumbed to the “I’m-a-bride-and-I-must-get-fit” mindset. But, thankfully, I’m not obsessing about it.  I have started a new fitness regime, and I love every minute of it! I’m actually having fun (so far).

Last week, I joined the Gym/Leisure Club at The Glebe Hotel. I’m not a huge fan of gyms and clubs, but this one is different. It is very small, and very friendly. With a lovely Hobbit-sized swimming pool that looks “crowded” with more than three people in it. There is a sauna (my favorite post-workout reward!) and a steam-room. The female trainer is a really sweet, Polish girl called Eva.  (Interesting point: There is a growing Polish population in the UK. Stratford-upon-Avon now has a Polish market on its high street. Fascinating, for a small market town in the Midlands.)

Eva is awesome. The first day I went in she asked me what my goals were, and I told her: “I’m getting married this summer, and I need to look less like the world’s shortest sumo wrestler.”

“No problem.” said Eva. “We work together. We make it happen. You believe in you, whatever it takes. Dreams are free.” I walked away from my first grueling weigh-in with high hopes. Eva’s words propelled me forward, so earnest, so simple, so inspired.

It was only later, after I’d showered, that I noticed the motivational posters on the women’s dressing walls. More tasteful and mature than the now legendary kitty-cat on a washing line-“Hang in there, baby” posters, these depict healthy, active people pursuing daring and challenging pursuits, complete with pithy catch phrases, such as: “Believe in yourself.” “Make it happen,” and, yes, even “Dreams are Free.”

Okay, so Eva gets no points for originality, but she scores big in her training prowess. She’s incredible. No shouting, no bullying, no showing off. She’s calm and soft-spoken, and takes a “gently, gently” approach to training. She has managed to create a fitness plan that I can actually follow. She has kept everything simple and user-friendly for me. My workout is a mix of running, light strength training and swimming.  This works for me, as I’m the sort of person who gets bored with monotonous routines. And, I’m in and out of the gym in an hour and a half each day. Brilliant! And that includes a post-swim snooze in the sauna. As with monotony, I’m not a: “3 hours in the gym” kind o’ gal.  I just won’t go. I want to walk in, do it, get it done, and move on to the rest of my day. I think I may just manage to stick to this one.

There is method to this bridal madness, you see, as of yesterday, I have found (and purchased) The Dress. As with so much in my life, this major occurrence happened purely by chance.

I decided to treat myself to a day out in Warwick yesterday. Stratford-upon-Avon will have to forgive my infidelity, but I have fallen madly in love with Warwick, the county town of Warwickshire. Anyway, I have decided—as if I have time—to start a wedding quilt.  So, a trip to “The Quilter’s Den” in Warwick was a must. I have meant to start this quilt project for several days, but kept getting distracted by the dress saga.

Short note on dress saga: I had placed myself on another “thrift challenge” to see if I could find a gorgeous dress without breaking the bank, i.e., "Vera Wang on a Budget". So, as noted previously, I have been wasting hours upon hours of my life trolling the depths of eBay, preownedweddingdress.com, myrecycledwedding.com, among other sites to try and bargain hunt for the dress. 

This is frustrating process to say the least. Frustrating, and in my case, pointless. Until someone actually invents Hobbit-Brides.com, I’m wasting my time.  I’m petite and curvy, and so unlike an average slim-Jim Jane, ordering a dress online and expecting a perfect fit is a pipe dream.

But, I’m a clever girl, and I had a cunning plan. I would take myself a proper Bridal shop, have a gander at styles, figure out what works on me, and what doesn’t, then proceed with the quest armed with the requisite knowledge.

Then, the unexpected. And, perfection.

The shop I’d chosen was “Eternal Bride” in the Old Square in Warwick. I will confess I was completely overwhelmed and nervous as I walked in. Would they be nice? Would I feel trapped by “a hard sell”? Would I be conned into buying something I didn’t actually like, or want, just for the seek of freedom and escape?? And goodness, I was doing this all alone!

My expectations could not have been more far from the truth. The staff at Eternal Bride: Debbie, Morag and Peter were incredibly kind and friendly. They gave very good advice, but more importantly, they listened to me. After an initial chat with the wonderfully effervescent Debbie (she has a great job, and she knows/loves it), I was handed a pair of white archivist’s gloves (much to the glee of my librarian heart) and was let loose on my own in a beautiful sea of wedding gowns.

To some, this may sound like an incredibly lonely experience, but I truly enjoyed it.  It had a similar and warmly familiar feeling to me, like when I am doing historical research in an archive or special collection. Handling precious things with care, taking your time to peruse and access the details.

So, it was just my opinion, and the dresses. And without any sort of high-pressure “suggestions” from shop assistants pushing a particular line. I took my time and made about a dozen selections, which I indicated by putting a bright blue tag on the hanger.  I went back and reported my findings to Debbie, who then had her colleague, take the dresses down for me and placed in a dressing room.

Looking back on it, I have no doubt, given her keen eye; Debbie knew which dress was going to work for me from the beginning. But she let me come to that conclusion myself. Her instructions to me had been incredibly simple and helpful: “Pick out whichever dresses you like for whatever reasons: the color, the bodice, its personality, etc.”

Of course, the dress that I had chosen purely for an example of a color/shade I like, turned out to be the And all, I mean ALL the dresses I had assumed would be solid choices for reasons of style, cut and design never even made it out of the gates! I had envisioned billowy organza, with a deep v-neck, and off the shoulder straps. Each and every one of the dresses of that type made me look like a smurf drowning in a giant pavlova.

I want the D.E.B. to recognize me when I walk down the aisle. I want to look like myself, I want to be comfortable. I also want to be elegant, sexy and fun. That’s a tall order for one dress. But, I think I found it. Made of scrumptious ivory, Thai silk, the dress --fitted strapless bodice, sheath skirt, with detachable train--was designed by award-winning, British designer Helen Marina, and part of her “Vintage Collection”: Helen Marina Bridal Wear UK

As for “sticker shock” – there was sticker shock, indeed! This couture creation was actually ON SALE, so I came in UNDER, yes UNDER, my target budget. Yea, Team! Now, if only everything else could work out so beautifully and economically.

Back to Eternal Bride…it was an incredible, incredible experience. And sure, there are loads of people in my life whom I would have loved to have been there to share that moment with me, but there was also a real sense of accomplishment in my doing this very major thing on my own. I felt very, very grown-up.

But, that is not to suggest that I didn’t misbehave. Debbie is a real sweetie, she put me at ease and we giggled and howled all afternoon as we waded through the virtual mountain of dresses. Ah, what fun it is to be a girl! And the staff at “Eternal Bride” made me feel just like a princess…

I will admit that I did get a little teary when I saw myself in “the dress.” It finally, finally dawned on me that I’m going to be a bride. That I’m actually going to marry my D.E.B. at last.

So, the quest now is to tone up—and turn my “hams” back into “arms”—as much as I can before my first fitting in March. It’s good to have a firm deadline. And it’s even better to have a team of helpful and gregarious supporters in my corner, to be the mirrors and friends I need.

p.s. The DEB and I have a catering/reception meeting tonight, with one of our top choice venues!!

The Art of Letting go...

Two years ago—in the midst of my ‘Single Girl’ life before the D.E.B.—I bought a wedding dress. I had no beau, no chap, and not a single wedding prospect on the horizon.  After putting in an Emergency Call in to St. Jude (the Saint of Hopeless Causes), I decided to follow the rather zany advice of my friend, "Bible-Belt Debutante":

“Honnnnneey,” she drawled down the phone, “You gotta show God you believe!”

By buying a wedding dress? – I said in disbelief. “Yeeees!!” she shouted down the phone (and I could sense that a “Hallelujah” was forthcoming shortly thereafter.) “You have to step out in faith! Like Lazarus! As the Lord once said, ‘Build it, and they will come’! So, buy the dress and the man will follow!”  

Nonsense? Perhaps. An excuse to go shopping? Why not.

So buy ‘the dress’ I did. In fact, I got so into this “Jesus said ‘build it and he will come’ idea” that I went ahead bought four (4) bridesmaids dress as well! (Anthropologie on Fifth Ave had a huge sale.)

Well, the D.E.B. did arrive. And so began a waiting game. A game of patience. It does make you wonder, doesn’t it, how our system is set up: Woman waits patiently (or not so patiently) until Man decides to ‘seal the deal,’ and pop the question. (I suppose there is always “Leap Year” for those gals who prefer to take matters into their own hands. )

As I’ve mentioned before (see posting: “Always Something There to Remind Me”) I have had varying degrees of success in my skills of waiting and patience, and thankfully I have been able to vent most of my angst here.  

Of course, friends were always ready and full of advice, also of varying degrees: “He’s got until February! That’s what I say!” – Banshee Friend wailed. “If he hasn’t done it by then, pack your stuff and get back to NYC!” (I have learned that doing the opposite of what Banshee Friend has to say is often the best way forward for me.)   

The best advice I had came from a sage and highly intuitive friend who advised several months ago that the best way to “gain what I want” is by “letting it go.” I could tell by the tone in her voice that another “act of faith” would be required on my part.

“Stop waiting for ‘The Proposal’,” she demanded. “You don’t need it. Just live your life. Let it go. Make peace with the situation you are in now.” And, just before she hung up/rang off: “Get rid of the dress.”

It took me a few weeks, but I finally got up enough courage to do it. To let the “faith dress” go, and ultimately to let go of what that wedding dress symbolized and represents. To relinquish control, and, as my Psychic Friend would say, “To trust the Universe.” So, I channeled my inner Angelina Jolie, and listed the “faith dress” on eBay.

The D.E.B. proposed 5 days later. 

Thrift, Thrift, Horatio

"Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funeral bak'd meats,
did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables." - Hamlet (I.ii. 176–181)

In this famous line from Hamlet, the Danish Prince is, of course, being fiendishly sarcastic about the haste with which his mother has married his uncle, following the death of his father. However, the frugal economy Hamlet implies seems a  suggestion most apt for today, in these financially uncertain times.

India Knight is a woman of many talents, and she has inspired me yet again. Just when I thought knew what to expect from her as a writer, she comes storming out of left field. This past weekend, as the D.E.B. and I curled up with our copy of the Sunday Times, I was stunned to see her name emblazoned across the cover of the Times’ Style magazine. India is now a Style guru with a new book coming out this Thursday, extolling the virtues of being “thrifty”- The Thrift Book: Live Well and Spend Less.

Her article–based on the book—is itself a great read. India shares openly her own financial demons, such as being hounded by bailiffs, and being flat broke even at a time when she had two books on the top bestseller lists. Knight does an excellent job of assessing our “must have” culture, and outlines some very simple ways we can “kick the habit,” do better, and be better.

I was surprised to find that without even trying, by just giving into my own current, personal circumstances, I have been (largely unknowingly) “doing my bit,” becoming a better consumer, and in India’s words, “become more green.”

For example, in the section entitled “Sensible Supermarket Shopping,” Knight suggests making the following adjustments to one’s food shopping regime:

a.) Shop locally, daily, buying only precisely what you need.

b.) Shop online from a properly compiled list.

c.) “If you find yourself naturally resistant to the idea of buying discounted food because you’re middle class, get over it.”

d.) Stop shopping at “posh” supermarkets.

Living how and where I do – more or less vehicle-less in rural Warwickshire, with the world’s tiniest refrigerator – I have very few options other than to shop locally, almost daily and online.  (see previous posts: “Patience and Fortitude” and “Is this an appliance, I see before me?”)

Thankfully, the Barford community has pulled together in true English village fashion, and re-opened its Village Shop. In just under two years, the Barford community dug deep, and raised the £300,000.00 needed to build and open the new shop. The shop is gorgeous, and cost effective. It has one paid staff member. Apart from the Manager, the rest of the staff is composed entirely of community volunteers. It seems that the frugal and communal lessons of WWII continue to inspire generations of Britons, and change the face of British communities.

Ribbon-cutting ceremony at the new Village Shop

The Vicar, blessing the Shop and all who shop within her

Barford's answer to Starbucks

The D.E.B. during the Opening Day shopping spree

While basking in the glow of my newly found sense of  “how green am I,” India Knight presented me with a fresh challenge. Clothes. Now, I have to say, I have never considered myself, nor ever really aspired to be a “full-on fashionista.” That is not to suggest that I am a slouch. I like to look good, I care about my appearance, I enjoy beautiful things, and would like to think of myself as a “woman of style.” Although I have never paid $700.00 for pair of shoes, I have been known to get more than a little crazy in Anthropologie on Fifth Avenue; I weep to think of how far away I am from J. Crew, and I have never met a cashmere sweater (jumper) that I didn’t like. In her article, and I assume in her book as well, India Knight challenges her readers to re-discover thrifts shops, eBay, and to consider making their own clothing.

I have always, always loved, loved, loved thrifts shops in England, i.e., Oxfam, and the countless Hospice and Cancer Society shops that dot every large English village, hamlet or town. To me, these shops are unique in that they are actually thrift shops, whereas “thrift” or second-hand shops in NYC are really just expensive shops in disguise – dressed down, with dim lighting, dull furnishings, and microscopic dressing rooms to fool the wannabe spend-conscious shopper. (It will come as no surprise that my favorite second-hand shop in NYC is St. Luke’s Thrift Shop. It doesn’t get any better than last season Episcoplian.)

I have decided to take India at her word, and have created a “Thrift Shop Challenge” for myself. I just found out a few hours ago that I have been invited for an interview for a short-term vacancy at The Shakespeare Institute! (No one is more surprised than me.) Of course, after receiving the news, my first thought was: What will I wear? Normally, my second thought would be: www.jcrew.com. 

Here is was what I found today (weepingly) on jcrew.com. Gorgeous... 

                              The "Kate Flannel Dress" ($198.00 USD) from J.Crew.com                           (They don't deliver internationally...sniff, sniff!)

Can I be thrifty, and find a comparably fetching interview ensemble here in England without succumbing to high street offerings at the likes of Next, Laura Ashley, Monsoon or Hobbs? We shall see. My interview is in exactly 7 days from today, so the challenge is on!