I think I know what you're thinking.
You're thinking, "Move on, Alyssa. Move on."
You're thinking, "We've heard enough about this magical skirt.
We get it. You really really like it."
This is my third blog post about this skirt.
I can see how I might look super excessive.
But can I just tell you the part of the story I've been hiding from you?
Can I tell you the dramatic details? Because believe it or not,
this pesky skirt story has had a lot of ups and downs to it.
And after today, I think I'm ready to share them with the rest of the world.
It is with great pleasure and honor that I present :
THE SKIRT STORY
My sister buys a lovely skirt. I drool over the pictures as I research all the different places you could potentially buy it. The cheapest one I find is over $200. I decide it'll be one of those garments that I dream of owning one day, but never would, because there's no friggin way I'm going to spend that kinda dough on a skirt. Even if its perfect. No friggin way. I convince myself that I probably wouldn't even like it on me anyway.
I happen to be in my hometown at the same time my sister is visiting, and you guessed it: she brought THE skirt. I beg her to let me to try it on, and she allows it. I fall in mad, crazy love with the skirt. I feel like a princess, a ballerina, and audrey hepburn rolled into one entity. I continue to research retailers who might carry it where it might be cheaper. No dice. Still around or over $200. (sigh) I convince myself that, even though I adore it, I'd never have a place to wear it. A little part of my heart aches when I give the skirt back to my sister.
Gideon surprises me by purchasing THE skirt for my birthday. Over the course of two minutes, I die a little bit.
First I die of shock, because remember how it was crazy expensive?
Then I die of fear. On the designer website that Gideon ordered from, they have a very clear policy of NO RETURNS. Talk about commitment right? I was terrified that Gid might have accidentally gotten the wrong size, color, or something else important. (FYI: He didn't. He's an impeccable secret shopper.)
Then I die of shoppers remorse. I start asking myself if I really liked the skirt, or if I just felt entitled to any piece of clothing that my sister owned. I wonder where in the world I would wear the skirt, (remember how I wrote a whole post just about being brave with cool clothes? I'm such a hypocrite!) and start feeling guilty that my darling husband bought me a darling skirt that would never be worn.
After my three stages of death, I finally just embrace the fact that I got an amazing skirt, and try to feel nothing but grateful. I give Gid the big thank you kiss he so rightfully deserves.
The. Very. Next. Day. We happen to be at downeast outfitters. You know how they've started selling anthro items that are out of season? Yeah. So we're at downeast, and I find THE EXACT SAME SKIRT, (same size, same color) for THIRTY DOLLARS. I die my three deaths all over again. Poor Gideon looked sick when he saw me and my discovery.
Gid sends an email to the New York designer, respectfully acknowledging the no return policy, and asks if there is any way, any possible way we can return the skirt we've ordered, explaining that we found another one through an anthropologie vendor. The designer takes a few days to respond, but surprisingly makes a gracious exception for us on one condition: the skirt needs to be returned within one week.
Immediately I take the skirt to the post office (it's Monday). I send it priority just to make sure it gets safely to NYC by Friday. They ask if I want insurance and a tracking number for an additional five dollars. Being a crazy cheapskate, I say "no thanks" and skip away, totally unaware of the major distress the decision will give me soon after.
Its Thursday. Gideon emails the designer, asking if the skirt has arrived. She replies that it hasn't. All day Friday I'm flipping out, but there's nothing to be done, because smartie pants over here decided not to pay fiiiivvve bucks of insurance on a TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR delivery!
I pray hard. Really really hard. "Please, please please let the skirt get to New York City today," I beg to the heavens. Friday comes and goes. The skirt doesn't arrive. Days go by. Then more days. Then a week. Big, fat tears stream from my eyes when I realize, not only that the skirt didn't arrive in time for us to get refunded, it's gotten lost in the mail. I mailed off two hundred dollars, and it got lost. It's probably sitting next to some vacated apartment, and will be thrown away. So I cry. Gideon holds me, runs his fingers through my hair, and says something along the lines of, "its ok. It's just a skirt." This only makes me cry harder.
This brings us to today. Can I just say, it's been a lousy day? I woke up early in the morning sick to my stomach (not preggo), and spent the better part of the morning in the bathroom crouched over the toilet. Not my cup of tea. I drag myself to class. The whole afternoon I'm clammy and have chills. I have a meeting that goes 30 minutes longer than it should, which makes me lose my break to grab a bite to eat.
I'm grouchy, tired, sick, and soo hungry. All I want to do is get my hands on a machete and go to town on everybody in sight.
And then I check my email. Notice a message from Gid. The subject says, "Good News!"
Turns out the package finally did arrive.
And it turns out, the designer is making yet another gracious exception, and is refunding us our money.
Not a bad day, after all.
ps- I think I'll send her a handwritten thank you card and have flowers delivered to her.
What do you think? Too much??
Phew! I'm glad I got that all out, friends!
Thanks for listening.