“Fashion is so often presented in the culture as a thing of froth, which, of course, it partly is; but the bubbles are blown with care and a sense of values.” - Anna Wintour
The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were The One.
Spirits of the universe had their hand in guiding our paths that day, taking care to cross our steps in perfect harmony. What else could explain how I went back to Winners to exchange a pair of shoes I had bought only the day before? A little voice in my head told me to go exchange those shoes for a different colour—and only because of that did we meet.
You were not there the day before; you must have been freshly brought out onto the racks for your debut that morning. And I am certain had I visited Winners any later in the day, you would have been gone, whisked away by one of the many others I saw ogling you from a distance. But I got to you first, and once I did, I vowed to never let go.
Shimmering with effervescent energy, you looked divine. Your metallic blue finish lent you such a dazzling glam-rock vibe, while your classic motorcycle cutting grounded you as an investment piece. Your shiny silver hardware, branded with your logo and family name, LAMARQUE (I've always adored French), spoke to your earnest attention to detail. The only one of your kind in the store that day, it was a miracle you came in my size, fitting me like a missing puzzle piece. So luxurious and tender, your lamb leather touch, and at only $90 (down from a retail price of $725), you expected so little in return for your genuineness. There are others out there who demand even more of me, yet upon acquaintance, reveal their faux personas. With you in my arms, I wonder why I would have ever spent all those years desperately searching—why I would have contemplated any other leather jacket—when you were waiting for me at the end of the line.
My dear, beautiful Donna, till death do us part, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
As I was mindlessly scrolling through social media one day, I came across a sponsored ad for Patten Place, a brand that sells rubber shoe covers for high heels. At first glance, I was excited about a possible solution to a problem I have faced many times: the heartache of walking through unexpected rain or snow in a pair of shoes that were most definitely not made for it. And yet, the more I looked into Patten covers, the more bewildered I became about the concept.
Patten shoe covers are marketed towards the “heel lover” and are designed to work only with high heels. So…you’re telling me these are for people who love wearing heels so much they not only want to wear high heels at the main event, they also want to experience the agony of wearing torture devices on the way to the event? No one is even going to see how fabulous-looking your torture devices are if they’re concealed underneath a shoe cover—so you’d be wearing heels on the way to an event for the pure sake of wearing heels. Look, I know there are people who love their stilettos, but does anyone willingly squish their feet atop two sticks without being able to show off the beauty behind their pain?
Okay, even if we assume an unwavering commitment to footwear that would make your podiatrist deeply disappointed, what advantage does a Patten cover have over simply bringing another pair of shoes? You could buy your own set of wedged rainboots and change into them before/after an event, or just as easily store them in a drawer at the office or in the trunk of your car in case of flash floods. Pattens still take up the same amount of space as a regular pair of shoes, and you still have to find a way of carrying them around once you take them off, so functionally, I struggle to see a significant advantage of using a shoe cover. At $98 a pop, Pattens are practically the price of another pair of shoes anyway—and yet you can’t actually wear them as another pair of shoes.
The only marginal benefit I can ascertain is Pattens may be a tad lighter than a normal pair of shoes, and they may save you the time, hassle and possible embarrassing awkwardness of switching between shoes. And I do acknowledge shoe covers allow you to “free up” shoes that would otherwise be relegated to the drawer in the office or trunk of your car, thus saving you from “wasting” a perfectly good pair of shoes by needing to assign it to backup duty.
Of course, I am only remarking on the concept of Patten covers, and cannot comment on their quality or comfort. For covers designed to fit over heels ranging from 2.5-4.5 inches, I do wonder if there would be the possibility of blisters or scuffing in areas where it may not fit quite right. Aside from that concern, I would be interested in seeing Patten Place come out with more practical covers for flat shoes, or even a regular, wearable pair of rainboots in a design similar to its Pattens. With relatively sleek lines and buttons with its cursive logo in gold, I do think Patten covers—particularly in the camel colour—look chic compared to most galoshes out there.
As it stands though, I can’t sufficiently rationalize the value-add of Patten covers. Can you?
Sick and tired of reading me blog about retail store closings? Well, I'm not done yet! A mere two months into 2019, retailers across Canada and the US have already announced a total of over 4000 store closures (including Payless ShoeSource, hah). While this retail apocalypse spells the loss of countless jobs, I believe the landscape is being rebuilt for the better. Once the dust settles, the brands who truly offer something of value will remain standing. And those who don't -- I'm sorry, but good riddance. We are on the verge of witnessing the rebirth of retail, and while I don't know exactly what that rebirth will look like, I am excited to find out.
For the most part, I have not been surprised by the stores which have flailed and fallen. They were all brands which I had a hunch would one day face the Grim Reaper. Yet the news of Designer Shoe Warehouse closing all of its Town Shoes stores did give me pause.
I wasn't surprised Town Shoes was closing -- it had its weaknesses after all, which I will get to -- but I was surprised it ended up being so vulnerable to the shifting proclivities of consumers. I rarely shopped there myself, but whenever I went on the hunt for new shoes, I always put Town Shoes on my list of stores to visit. It had neither the trendy predictability of brands like Aldo or Spring, nor the eye-bulging price tags of higher end footwear. What Town Shoes managed to offer was variety. It carried shoes I couldn't find elsewhere, and if I hounded a pair of shoes enough, I could catch them on a good sale. In fact, Town Shoes was invaluable to fulfilling my office footwear needs. Ironically, it was just after I bought two pairs of shoes from them last year that it started to close down.
So why did it shutter? To understand the reason, we may want to look back in time at what Town Shoes used to be. In 2010, I wrote a blog post about how Town Shoes engaged in the unsavoury act of ripping off designer wares with its Red Carpet Collection. At the time, Town Shoes had some awfully overpriced, tacky shoes which it hopelessly tried to market as glamorous. Over the years, it aimed to shed its shameful past by portraying a more upscale image with higher quality footwear in what it called 'accessible luxury'. When the most prestigious collaborations Town Shoes ever got a decade ago was with the likes of David Dixon, Kate & Mel, and Barbie, earlier last year it started boasting labels such as See by Chloé, Ted Baker, Kate Spade and Badgley Mischka.
However, upon closer inspection, Town Shoes still carried some mediocre labels. It still had poor quality footwear that wasn't worth the price associated with it, and thus, continued to be seen by the average shopper as overpriced -- even if a few of its shoes did warrant the higher dollar figure. Ultimately, Town Shoes brought variety to the market, but unlike its aforementioned competitors, it lacked a distinguishable identity.
And funny story, its identity crisis became even more pronounced when one of its stores desperately tried to liquidate its inventory. I was browsing a Town Shoes Outlet during the final leg of its store closing sale when I came across a horrendous sight: the store was selling shoes which were missing the other pair. As in, a single shoe. A. Single. Shoe. Please tell me what the heck I am supposed to do with one shoe. And guess what? The store wanted $10 for those shoes. So you're telling me I can pay $10 for a complete pair (because yes, they had complete pairs for the same price), or pay $10 for half a pair. Wow, logic. Even if I had wanted a single shoe for a DIY project, or had somehow lost a shoe in a drunken night at the club, or had possibly only one leg attached to my torso...what Town Shoes was doing didn't make a lick of sense to me. Worse yet, on the neighbouring shelf, they were selling BROKEN shoes. I literally picked up a pair of shoes with its heel hanging by tendrils of fabric, exposing its ugly innards of wood and screws. At that point I was so repulsed by the store's vile behaviour that I walked out shortly after.
After all its efforts to become a place of 'accessible luxury', Town Shoes sure stopped the masquerade when the going got tough and hearkened back to what it was like a decade ago. If it had managed to successfully bring more upscale footwear to the mass market space, it could have carried its relevance into this new age of retail. But akin to putting lipstick on a pig, Town Shoes was trying to be something it wasn't. And as it turns out, we have no room anymore for a store like that.
PS: On another note, just want to congratulate YouTubers Shane Dawson and Ryland Adams on their engagement! I started following Shane 6 years ago when it was clear he struggled with deep inner demons. But finally, over the past few years, I have seen him discover overwhelming happiness with Ryland at his side. I am so delighted these two have found each other and wish them love, joy and continued silliness for the rest of their lives. <3
You know how much I adore shoes. They will forever be one of the greatest loves of my life. So when I heard Payless ShoeSource released a commercial where they opened up a fake luxury shoe store and successfully pranked shoppers into believing their shoes were worth up to $640, my inner footwear diva was instantly offended. Yes, I have a bias for high-end footwear. Yes, I sometimes display immediate displeasure at certain shoes without so much as a second glance. But I also like to think of my bias as a heartfelt respect for the art of well-designed, well-made shoes.
And in reality, your home girl shops at ALDO, which is far closer on the scale to Payless than any luxury brand. I may be a snob, but I am not delusional. I am fully supportive of affordable footwear, and have said before that fashion which appears to be of high quality does not have to break the bank. I strongly believe in clever ways of faking it 'till you make it, baby.
Before we start peeling apart the situation, let us first take a look at the commercial:
Initial Thoughts
No way. There is NO WAY you can mistake Payless shoes for something worth anything more than $100. I have been in Payless multiple times before, and based on my knowledge of their merchandise, I am adamant there are no shoes in there which can remotely pass as high-end. As soon as I heard about this campaign, I was absolutely certain there was more to the story than what the headlines led us to believe. Which is why I am going to start breaking it down and showing exactly why Payless managed to pull this commercial off (sort of).
The Intent Behind Using Influencers
Payless used social media influencers in their commercial. That statement alone pretty much explains the entire situation. I had a difficult time imagining everyone who browsed through Palessi -- whether they be fashion industry folk, affluent shoppers familiar with high-end wares, or even random passersby from the public who wandered into the store -- all being fooled by the façade. But once I learned only social media influencers were invited to peruse the shoes, everything made sense because...well, influencers are a special breed.
The very nature of being a social media maven is to promote merchandise, and we all know how the allure of sponsorships and paid promotions can propagate inauthentic words of praise. So just imagine you have a bunch of (probably) D-list social media influencers who are invited to a swanky, glamorous party, and you shove a microphone in their face on camera to ask what they think of the shoes. I'm pretty sure no one would dare criticize the shoes, even if simply to be polite. In fact, in order to leave the door open for future opportunities with you, they might actually compliment and rave about your shoes. And heck, if nothing else, they would put on a face to show their followers they're having a fantastic time at this oh-so-luxe event.
And let me clarify one thing: social media influencers are not necessarily experts in fashion. They are experts in influencing. Many social stars may enjoy nice clothes and looking good, but their understanding of fashion may not go beyond the superficial. Their true skill sets lie, after all, in how to create and promote engaging content -- that's their bread and butter. One particularly pointed, yet not altogether unjustified, comment on Instagram opined, "Great job Payless for exposing the fraud that this 'influencer' movement represents." Ouch. But really, Payless does not stock any footwear that is made from real leather, so basically you're telling me these influencers couldn't even distinguish between synthetic and genuine leather...?
Payless was deliberate in who they set up. You think the corporate minds at Payless didn't sit around a conference table discussing exactly what kind of individuals to invite? They made a clearly conscious decision to not bring in actual fashion experts, and didn't even run the risk of having random members of the public blow their cover.
A Shameful Social Media
I feel bad for harping on influencers so much, but they really did paint a bulls eye on themselves here. Being social media influencers, I imagine the first thing they would do upon receiving an invite from Palessi is to...check out the company's social media pages! And yet if they really did, then how could they not have been suspicious from the start?
Look at Palessi's Instagram page. What kind of luxury company would post these grainy, low resolution photos? And isn't it odd how they posted a total of 24 photos on October 25 -- half of which don't even contain shoes?
And their website is laughable. Granted, the site has been edited since the campaign so I'm not aware of what it looked like before, but the shoes currently showcased on the landing page are dead giveaways. The rubber sole, man-made material, and bumbling shape of the stilettos would have been obvious from miles away. Yet hilariously, Palessi has blown up and magnified the images to the point it should have been impossible to miss these details.
The problem is, the social media influencers probably didn't look too deeply into what Palessi was, or if they did, chose to ignore what they found. There are countless influencers on the Internet who knowingly advertise for (Chinese) clothing companies which have abysmal quality and deplorable customer service, and YouTube was rife with recent drama over high profile content creators who just didn't do enough research on what they promoted. Ignorance is bliss.
Auctioned Away
Although Payless has not confirmed outright, it does appear some shoes were sold through an auction format, giving Payless that sweet, sweet opportunity to drive home the fact their shoes fetched up to $640.
This move too is entirely deliberate. An auction allowed Payless to capture inflated dollar figures for their campaign. If you attach an outrageous price tag to an item that can't live up to the figure, shoppers might not bite. But if you pit influencers against each other in a friendly game of bidding, you can possibly get them in the right mood to spend more. The auction was yet another strategic decision that granted Payless the perfect little media snippet.
Glamour Shot
Let's be honest with ourselves and not deny that the atmosphere of a store can most certainly affect our perception of quality. No matter how much we may try to judge the inherent value of a fashion item, a lot of what we think (and how much $$$ we shell out) is impacted by brand value. Brands in favour have the freedom to demand more in exchange for their promised fantasy. By simply setting up shop in a former Armani store in LA alongside other luxury giants, Palessi gave themselves some leverage against even the more discerning influencers. A poorly made shoe might just seem decently bearable perched on a gleaming glass shelf. Add to that scores of beautiful people at a glamorous party by invitation only, and you have a stunt that is one step closer to believable.
Take To The Streets
I aim, if nothing else, to be fair. So before I gave myself the liberty to knock on Payless, I did actually go out and try it. I was a girl on a mission as I visited two separate Payless stores to confirm: (1) Could I find the shoes presented in the commercial? (2) Was the quality actually impressive enough to deceive?
First of all, yes, I was successful in finding most of the shoes filmed in the campaign, with the exception of the gold and leopard print sneakers which appeared to be Palessi's pride and glory (though I found many similar styles). The majority of shoes used were, not surprisingly, from the Christian Siriano line, but I do give Payless credit for keeping the stunt honest.
In terms of quality, Payless was far better than expected, though still hardly exceptional. While some shoes veered towards trendy, the designs were overall basic and banal, lacking the originality of luxury footwear. I was disappointed to see a rubber underside on every shoe (instead of leather soles), and was put off by all the fake leather and textile uppers. However, I will say some of the synthetic leather was smooth enough as to almost pass for the real thing at first brush of the hand, unlike the nauseating polyurethane normally used by bargain stores. And I didn't see as many exaggerated toe springs (often seen on poorly made shoes which need to roll forward in order to compensate for lack of flexibility in the sole) and sloppy stitching as I had anticipated. Yet despite the reasonable craftsmanship, the devil is in the details. Payless pumps all came with -- in addition to a seam in the back -- a second seam along the arch of the foot, a surefire sign that more than one piece of material was used to construct the shoe. A high quality pump will possess only one seam along the back of the heel. Upon inspection of their ankle boots, I found one particular design with braided straps which were cut bluntly near the zipper, leaving a distasteful number of unfinished ends. Any luxury shoemaker would close the loop on such details.
After my evaluation of the shoes, I pegged their worth at around $40 (not $640!), which turned out to be exactly what most of the price tags asked for. I am happy to say Payless is at least principled in their pricing.
Final Thoughts
The news headlines surrounding this campaign were almost farcical:
"Payless pranks customers by getting them to buy its discount shoes at designer prices." "Payless shoes fools fashion snobs, sells discount shoes at luxury prices." "Payless opens fake luxury store, dupes influencers into paying hundreds for shoes."
In some ways, Payless did manage to dupe a bunch of shoppers -- but not because of how great their shoes were. This campaign was a carefully constructed scenario that took full advantage of the behaviours and motivations of those who were invited. This is not a prank that would have succeeded if a single foot stepped outside of those meticulously drawn parameters. My conclusion? The real dupes are those who think this experiment said anything about the quality of Payless shoes.
Well, it's been a minute. Having taken a week off work for a staycation, I thought I would finally have more time to hunker down and blog. But of course, me being me, I scheduled myself full this week and haven't actually had a single day at home.
Today, however, I am here.
I have many things I'd like to catch up on, but the most recent of them is the bankruptcy of shoe retailer Nine West. In April 2018, Nine West filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in the United States, and shortly after, began the widespread shuttering of its American and Canadian stores.
To say I was surprised would be an absolute lie. For years and years, Nine West stood out like a sore thumb (toe?). It attempted to mingle with the likes of Aldo, Town Shoes, and Call It Spring, but realistically, it was the awkward mother trying to fit in with her daughter's friends. There was something indescribably off about Nine West shoes. They appeared almost too stiff, as if their designers tried to sketch out the perfect shoe, but in the process, ended up trying too hard to draw within the lines. What I didn't see when I looked at a pair of Nine West shoes was the innate talent of someone who knew how to make a good shoe.
Nine West straddled an odd line between classy and trendy. It would take classic silhouettes -- stiletto pumps, ballet flats, penny loafers -- and plop on one or two crazy elements. Pumps fully covered in a floral print. Black flats with enormous bow ties. Loafers in metallic pink leather. Conceptually, I think Nine West was aiming to make quintessential shoes more unique and interesting -- good on them for that. In execution, however, they failed to rope the design elements together into a cohesive shoe. Like blindly pinning a tail on a donkey, the final result was disconcerting.
I never had the desire to walk into a Nine West store because in the few times I did venture through, I left feeling thoroughly uninspired. In light of its bankruptcy though, I decided to give it one last chance. I visited multiple stores over the course of a month, revisted the same stores in case the inventory was refreshed, and willed myself to find one, even just one, pair of shoes that I might consider buying. And yet I still came out with nothing.
Having monitored Nine West so closely for a month, I realized how poor the quality was relative to the price. The majority of footwear was made from synthetic materials and lacked the soothing lines of a well-shaped shoe. I picked up a few items, but as soon as I tried them on, they looked ungainly. The toe box was too wide, too stunted, too curved...the shoes just didn't look natural on the feet.
Nine West's bankruptcy only served to remind me why I never shopped there. In some ways, you could say it is sad to see so many giant retail chains closing down, but frankly, I think consumer spending speaks loud and clear when it comes to identifying which stores are underperforming. If you don't sell what people want, the truth is your space can be better utilized by someone else who does. The constant refining of the retail landscape is an inevitable response to the way of the world as defined by you, by me, and by us.
Clearly, I do. And apparently, I need shoes to complete the look.
I'll be honest with you, I've been shopping a lot lately. Actually, not just shopping - I've been buying. Those closest to me know I may be a so-called fashionista, but I am certainly not a shopaholic. Thankfully, my recent purchases have been limited to pants and shoes, both of which are items in my wardrobe I can confidently say needed a refresh. I'm still wearing things I bought around 4-6 years ago, so yes, I think I can justify a few purchases. Besides, I've noticed considerable discounts popping up in the retail market lately. Now is the time to buy. And in my case, stock up for at least the next 4 years.
So brace yourselves. Here is what I bought:
PANTS
The Gap 1969 True Skinny Jeans
The Gap has been having some incredible sales lately. My parents bought me this pair of burgundy jeans for only $10. While you can't see in this photo, the jeans come with a bright gold button and hardware, which I think complement the tone of the pants. I liked that these weren't Crayola red, and instead were deepened to a more sophisticated shade. As soon as I tried the jeans on, I knew I would be keeping them. I've finally found my denim soulmate in The Gap's True Skinny line (which has served me well in the past) - the cut fits me like a charm. The Gap Favorite Leggings
Before I get started on these pants, let me say upfront I actually ended up returning them the next day. I was initially seduced by the $14 price tag and the prospect of being among the trendy ripped jeans crowd. I thought if I was to buy jeans that are intentionally torn, then they might as well be cheap and done in a more unique colour. The one lacking feature that made me go straight back to the store the next day with receipt in hand, however, was the fit. Although my legs did look great in a Size 25, the rip on the left leg gave the pants away as being too tight. The threads along the rip were pulled taut against my knee, making it look like a sausage wrapped in twine. I tried moving up to a Size 26, but then the jeans looked oddly roomy around my knees. So because of the particular way these jeans are cut (literally), I ended up floating in limbo between two sizes. Without having achieved perfection, I decided to give these pants up completely.
Old Navy Pixie Pants
After the slight let-down with the ripped jeans (only slight because I don't settle for less than perfection when it comes to pants nowadays), I uncovered gold. The thing is, I uncovered it in a very unexpected store: Old Navy. Ever since my junior high days, I have not seriously set foot in Old Navy. I had labelled it as a place with suburban style and poorly made wares. Yet forced into the store by my mom who wanted to look at a shirt, I came across this pair of shiny gold, brocade-printed pants for $8. Eight. Dollars. I briefly wondered if these pants would be too outré for the workplace, but heck, when was I ever one to balk at being bold? My goal is to get a reaction out of people, and sure enough, the first time I wore them out, I got attention. One memorable instance was when my coworker stopped me to ask if she could feel my pants. She thought they were made of silk from a luxury brand, possibly Louis Vuitton or Gucci. Oh boy. I was incredibly flattered and got an extra kick out of telling her they were $8 pants from Old Navy. Even if the gold print rubs off (though I've already committed to hand washing), these pants are worth it just for the fun.
SHOES
I consider ankles one of the most fashionable erogenous zones, and as you will see, I went a little crazy with that notion. I've always thought my two bony joints were too skinny in proportion to the rest of my legs, which led me to feel comforted by ankle straps and their ability to create the illusion of more bulk. However, my closet contained not a single ankle strap, so when it came time to revamp my footwear, I was pretty dead set on getting strapped in.
Four years ago, I finally bought a pair of black flats from Town Shoes for work. At the time, I had splurged $120 on them (a total act of desperation) so I could dress appropriately in the office. Now after four years of wearing those flats almost daily to work, at business functions, and casually on the weekends, they were barely holding up. I had a hole in the left sole, and the leather was worn and torn from confrontations with the rough pavement and days when rain unexpectedly poured from the sky. I once again found myself with a pressing need for black flats.
I knew I wanted either d'Orsay cutouts or ankle straps - or better yet, a pair with both. I browsed shoe stores multiple times a week looking for an affordable pair of genuine leather flats, and was about to start stressing out when I spotted this pair of t-strap flats in a Town Shoes outlet. Never have I considered getting t-strap flats in my life (although I realize now Valentino Rockstud cage flats are technically t-straps) and I was concerned they wouldn't look professional, but at a nicely discounted price of $38, I had to snag the last pair while I still could. Once I tried them on at home with some business pants, I was sold. I like the additional straps criss-crossing across the toes, the gold buckle, and of course, the beautifully pointed toe. Sure, there were some loose threads along the strap, but that was easily resolved with a snip of scissors. With the foot secured underneath the straps and not much else to scratch against my skin, these are actually wonderfully comfortable. Plus, d'Orsay flats come with the added benefit of lasting longer because they don't get bent as much when I walk. Score! Coach Jameson Ankle Strap Flats
The thing with having bought the t-strap flats is it happened during a promotion Town Shoes was running: I was given a gift card for $20 off my next purchase. That's a decent amount to get off a pair of shoes, especially on one that is already discounted. You win, Town Shoes. You got me to buy another pair of shoes.
I went to Town Shoes multiple times a week again to find something worth using my gift card on, and was about to reach the expiry date on the card when I decided to revisit the outlet store. Okay, I get the appeal of outlet stores now. I've always thought they were dingy warehouses of B-stock clothing, but they actually do carry some current styles at cheaper prices compared to the regular stores. I came across this pair of Coach flats that had both d'Orsay cutouts and an ankle strap! I had actually seen these shoes advertised online a week ago and had thought they looked nice. It was fate I would meet them in real life. They aren't anything particularly special; even with the silver pebbled leather toe, it's a fairly conservative shoe. But I think these are bang on for work, and with all the discounts piled on, I ended up only paying $58 for them. Although there is more toe cleavage than I am accustomed to, the flats are clearly well-made and I appreciate the charm hanging from the ankle strap. Not a bad purchase considering these retailed for over $200. ALDO Wiliwiel
Now this right here is a true success story. Last year, I fell for a pair of Zusien shoes from Aldo. I never ended up buying them, but shortly after, Aldo came out with a variation of the Zusien: the Wiliwiel. With a spattering of pearl-like embellishment on the heel, the Wiliwiel turned it up another notch on uptown style. However, having said that, I knew this shoe was of poorer quality: it was made of microfibre suede, had an unfinished seam on the end of the ankle strap, and already showed some discolouring on the embellishment. Despite being comfortable and classy, they were definitely not worth $70. I stopped monitoring the Wiliwiel for the next few months, until one day I noticed them on the sale rack for $35. By that time, the black version was no longer in stock - only the fuchsia and red were left. Since I didn't consider those colours to be as versatile, I decided to really push my luck and wait until they went below $30.
So I waited. And waited. And waited.
Until my mom ultimately convinced me to just buy them. I was disappointed at myself for breaking my discipline, but I made the trip out to an Aldo outlet one day to finally bite the bullet. I was already lucky enough they still had the fuchsia in my size, but then the sales associate rung up the shoes at the till and it came to...$18. What?! I got lucky after all. I had waited just long enough for the Wiliwiel to end up on the clearance rack. Cheapest pair of shoes I've ever bought! Yes, they're also not the highest quality pair shoes I've ever bought, but I think they look more expensive than they actually are. I'm so happy I now own shoes with a bit of a heel, and can't wait to highlight them come warmer weather with an all-black or all-white outfit.
Franco Sarto Brandy Booties
Tired of ankle straps yet? Here's an ankle boot for a change of pace. I purchased my go-to pair of ankle boots eons ago in high school, so I had been low-key on the look out for something to replace them. I decided I wanted a pair of cognac leather Chelsea boots after seeing how sleek they looked, but I had not yet found the perfect pair. What I didn't expect was my mom would beat me to it. In her own search for shoes, she found a pair of brown suede Franco Sarto ankle boots for $40. The defining feature is a silver chain sewn into the welt of the shoe. Although these boots aren't 100% my style - I wasn't fully keen on the button at the back and was hoping for a more traditional Chelsea boot in leather - I certainly don't mind sharing these with my mom. She is half a size bigger than me, but these boots fit great once I put my orthopedic insoles in. Well, that was easy. Guess my hunt for a pair of ankle boots is over!
CONCLUSION
I'm done shopping. I think. For now. I mean, I do kind of want some knee-high boots though...
When Hudson's Bay announced in 2013 it would acquire Saks Fifth Avenue, I waited ever so patiently for the American luxury department store to one day open a location in my city. That day finally arrived a few weeks ago, when Saks set up shop and opened its doors in square footage formerly belonging to Target (whose shameful expansion failure will remain talked about in business schools for years to come).
I believe I had once visited a Saks when I travelled to Seattle, but don't recall much of the experience. However, I had an inkling Saks would be on par with Nordstrom, so I was curious to see how it would differentiate itself from its competitor who is - literally - just down the hall.
After checking out the store on the day of its grand opening, I see I was slightly off in my prediction. Saks actually falls between Nordstrom and Holt Renfrew: it is more high-end than Nordstrom, but not nearly as luxurious as Holts.
As I've mentioned in the past, Nordstrom is a mix of mid-to-high end wares. Although such a product mix can make it a more approachable department store, it does unfortunately weaken its air of luxury. Saks, on the other hand, focuses solely on high-end designers. Its handbag section is fairly rounded, carrying major names like Chloé, Alexander McQueen, Valentino, Loewes, Dolce & Gabbana, Givenchy, Saint Laurent, and Alexander Wang.
Its shoe section I found to be most interesting, though perhaps not in the best way. Besides being small in comparison to every other department, I found it lacking in variety. There were a lot of unique and quirky products I had not seen elsewhere - but that was it. It seemed almost like a museum of shoes. There were no classic styles or luxury brands to ground the footwear department, making it unlikely I will ever go to Saks for serious shoe shopping.
In spite of that, I was impressed with how Saks houses an apothecary, a Tom Ford beauty boutique (which I had never seen before), and private shopping suites. Walking into the store, I also approved of the glimmering and shiny interior décor, which truthfully outshines that of Nordstrom. My only critique of décor would be the jewellery section. With its orderly rows of glass jewellery cases, it looked surprisingly commercial and plain compared to the rest of the store.
In the clothing department was where Saks lower rank beneath Holt Renfrew was most apparent. Even though Saks carries high-end brands, it doesn't carry luxury clothing. All of its womenswear was from contemporary labels - which isn't a bad thing as many of those labels are one-of-a-kind in the city, but any feeling of granduer was certainly dampened. Nonetheless, the standout item for me that day was a light pink, beaded leather jacket from Elie Tahari.
As an overall shopping experience, I was pleased with the customer service. Granted I did attend the grand opening so I may have received particularly keen service that day, but I was greeted multiple times by sales associates who simply wanted to ensure I was enjoying my time and felt entirely welcomed to browse. I was not pressured to buy at any point.
One final, funny thing I would like to point out is I noticed every entrance was flanked by a security guard. I understand the value of the merchandise inside and I realize other stores do the same, though I found it amusingly jarring to see darkly uniformed guards standing among such elegant surroundings.
Saks Fifth Avenue, Nordstrom and Holt Renfrew are like the Venn diagram of high-end retail in my city right now. They undeniably have overlapping offerings which will challenge all of them to be more competitive, but I think each has also carved out enough of their own market to co-exist in relative harmony.
I know I vowed not to buy any more clothes, but I never specifically said I wouldn't buy any more shoes. C'mon. A girl, especially me, can never have too many shoes.
The thing about shoes is...I always seem to need another pair. I need variety. With boots alone, I need winter boots, rain boots, combat boots, ankle boots, knee-high boots, thigh-high boots, suede, leather, high heel, low heel, etc... When is enough, enough? Honestly, never.
Speaking of thigh-high boots, that was exactly what I had needed in my shoe collection. Thigh-highs have become trendy over the past year, but as much as I had liked the look, I couldn't find a pair that truly spoke to me. And you know me; I wasn't keen on being just another girl with typical plain black suede thigh-highs.
So I held off on buying anything until the right one came along (note: also good advice when looking for a man).
One day, on an impromptu amble through Winners, I came face-to-face with a pair of Catherine Catherine Malandrino Glitzy Glitter Over-the-Knee Block Heel Boots:
I promptly snatched them off the rack and knew instantly I was in trouble - because I had a bubbling hunch I was going to end up walking straight to the cashier with them in hand. The gold glitter heel made my eyes sparkle with lust, and when I tried the boots on, I felt the sensual power of thigh-highs coursing through my veins. A passing salesperson stopped to compliment the boots, and mentioned how they seemed to fit my thighs very well. She was right - they did fit nice and snug.
My heart was telling me to get the boots, but my mind still walked through some logic.
First of all, the boots were $60. To determine whether that price tag was justified, I inspected the quality. Although the suede-like upper was incredibly smooth, it appeared to be synthetic. Some glitter specks had already begun to shed, and the fact they were Catherine Catherine Malandrino also tipped me off the craftsmanship may be lacking. Moreover, I noticed the toe box curved upwards quite a bit, which has always been a sign of poor quality to me. The curved toe box not only made the boots uncomfortable, it exposed the tan sole underneath in an unflattering manner.
In terms of quality, these were definitely not up to par with my usual standard for shoes; however, I did consider the glitter heels to be a dazzlingly unique touch, so I threw in the towel and bought the boots.
I didn't wear them right away, though. I kept the tags on until Black Friday a week later, when the boots went down to $46. Score! At that price, I was more willing to keep the boots as an experimental and fun purchase. I figure if the glitter does eventually fall off, I can easily replace it with glitter from the crafts store. I just couldn't bring myself to return these shoes. They had such a sexy and feminine allure even my own mother said she prefers I wear it with some skin peeking through. In this special instance, being able to check off 'thigh-high boots' from my wishlist of shoes is worth any ultimate shortfall in quality.
Remember when I turned into an outright diva? Yeah, I thought I would put my diva days behind me for at least the next little while, but then I decided to get new glasses and prescription sunglasses. So back out I went - barely settled from my first foray - to become a spoiled brat yet again.
I was due for an upgrade anyway. I bought my current pair of Tiffany & Co. glasses six years ago, and my Coach sunglasses even longer before that. At that point in life, I was still trying to figure out exactly what my personal style was.
So I have been looking for new glasses for a very long time. My Tiffany & Co. frames are not atrocious, but they are quite ubiquitous. I've seen more women on the streets than I would like with the same or similar pair of Tiffany's. And while the robin egg blue on the inside of the frames was a fun touch, I wanted something more professional and refined now that I'm a working adult. As mentioned once before, I fell in love with browline glasses years ago. In particular, I developed a bottomless obsession with havana/gold Ray-Ban clubmasters. Yet every attempt I made to own a pair was met with failure. With such high prescription, I was told my lenses would end up being noticeably thick. The distance between the nose pads also didn't fit my flat nose. And, last but not least, they just fundamentally didn't complement my face shape as well as I had hoped.
So I tried other browlines. I dabbled with cat eyes. I thought of surrendering and succumbing to typical plastic frames. I even emailed Tom Ford at one point asking if they could please design a browline for women - with gold metal instead of silver, and a gold bridge instead of black...sorry for being picky... (I never did get an email back, but I saw Tom Ford came out with a pair of black/gold browline glasses for women this season). I initially wanted havana frames because I thought they looked softer against my dark hair, though over time I started to realize I should probably stick to black. Havana seemed to wash me out.
On the streets, I became jealous of women who could pull off browline frames. And of those with black and gold frames in those glamorous, quirky styles which are particularly trendy right now.
So it was quite an unbelievable feat when I finally managed to find my own pair.
It came to me swiftly and unexpectedly. A pair of Dolce & Gabbana browline frames. I was just messing around with different glasses while waiting for my mom to choose her own pair of new frames (she, ironically, settled on Tiffany & Co.), when I tried on these:
When I saw myself in the mirror, it was like being struck with an awakening and finally seeing the light of day. Because these frames just felt so right. There is a special soothing feeling I get when I try something on and I just know it's the right one. These frames made the stars align on my face, and to boot, it was a black and gold browline. It wasn't necessarily unique, but it was polished and refined. Here's how it looks on me:
What I find especially fateful is that I used to own a pair of Dolce & Gabbana frames before I switched to Tiffany. And guess what? I also ended up choosing a pair of Dolce & Gabbana frames for my prescription sunglasses. I guess Dolce & Gabbana and I have an inexplicable sartorial bond, and it was simply calling me back to my roots.
My search for a pair of prescription sunglasses was much more...last minute. I hadn't paid any thought to what I would want in new prescription sunglasses, so I was really going in blind (pun not intended). In an act of desperation, I went to the mall and tried on as many pairs of sunglasses as I could. What naturally caught my eye (oh man, I'm punning it up today) was of course gold detailing. I also knew I wouldn't want another pair of sunglasses from Ray Ban, so I started narrowing down my options. I came across a couple frames with gold trim along the brows, which were interesting, but for some reason didn't feel right. And now I'm grateful I trusted my instincts because I have ended up seeing more than enough people with those exact sunglasses on the train.
I ultimately ended up debating between these Tom Ford Penelope sunglasses, and the Dolce & Gabbana 4268 frames pictured above. However, as much as I liked the cylindrical gold arm on the Tom Ford sunnies, I knew the frame was simply too large and thin for it to look good with prescription lenses. So I went with Dolce & Gabbana. I asked for the darkest lens possible with no gradient colouring. I've learnt from past mistakes and didn't want any risk of my lens coming out more transparent than they needed to. Here's how it looks:
I didn't fully Jekyll and Hyde into a diva this time, but I did disregard a lot of opinions from others on what frames I should get. I was met with a hesitant pause from my parents when I showed them the frames I wanted. They worried the frames would be too big, too thin, too round, etc. And the sales assistant at the eyewear store warned my lenses would be thick, and the lack of nose pads on my sunglasses would affect proper fit. Yes, my lenses are visibly thick and I do have to get used to wearing sunglasses that sit lower on my nose, but I've come to realize the only choice that will make me happy is the one I want. As a wise saleslady at Nordstrom once told me, "Don't listen to what other people tell you. Don't even listen to what I tell you. Get what you want - because you're the one who's going to be wearing it". And she's right. These glasses are, after all, for my eyes only.
Uncharacteristically, I've been avoiding the mall lately. I'm afraid of window shopping. Because I know that if I wander through the racks, there's a chance I'll come across an item that catches my fancy. And if it does, I might start obsessively waiting for it to go on sale.
Why is that a problem?
Well, I've realized I have. Way. Too. Many. Clothes. When it gets to the point you open your closet and continuously find "new" clothes you totally forgot/never knew you had, you might just have too much. It's like some reverse bandit is sneaking into my room at night and giving me new clothes. I literally have zero recollection of certain items being under my ownership. Not only that, sometimes I can spend 15 minutes just deciding what pair of socks to wear because somehow I have 7 different pairs of white socks in my drawer. Or an entire box of nylons. Or three boxes of jewellery. Or clothing stored throughout the house and in the basement. I could literally open a thrift store at this rate. In fact, I've been selling away my clothes, and yet it barely makes a dent.
So point is, I can't buy anymore. I don't need anymore. Aside from a couple wardrobe staples here and there I could update, it would be silly of me to buy more.
But yesterday I broke the fast by walking into an ALDO store. Luckily, I didn't walk out with an item on my wishlist. All I walked out with were a couple quips about their latest collection.
ALDO is actually my favourite shoe store. I think it's good at producing shoes that are trendy, affordable, and can have decent quality - though let me expand on that last point. The majority of the time, ALDO shoes fall short in quality. However, they do always have a selection of shoes that I think step it up. While most are faux leather, it is possible to find a few made from genuine leather, and there are always a handful with better construction. You have to look for them, but they're there.
Yesterday, I found myself more conflicted than usual about ALDO. They have really interesting designs lately. If we look past the blatant Gucci imitation items (Floral embroidered sneakers? Horsebit hardware? C'mon.), or the Fenty x Puma copies (though honestly, who isn't copying those nowadays), there are some cool concepts. Heels and sneakers became canvases for metallic rainbow finishes, sparkly embellishment, shiny gold hardware, encrusted pearls, flecks of glitter, and soft fur. It was just plain FUN. I was honestly impressed with the attention to detail this season.
The only thing was...it all looked tacky. Not because of the design itself, but because the quality was not up to snuff. The fake leather had an unsettling sheen, the metallic was dull and probably easily scratched, and the pearls looked a bit pasted on. I find outré, trendy detailing like this does require some level of craftsmanship to make it look stylish. Otherwise, it can look like an item from the kiddie dress-up aisle (sorry).
I appreciate the design effort, ALDO, and to give you credit, I'm sure there are a couple good pieces in there. But, regardless of whether I'm abstaining from the mall or not, would I purchase any of it? Unfortunately no.
A few weeks ago, I needed some me time. I had been planning to take a walk around downtown to snap pictures for a corporate scavenger hunt I was participating in, so thought I might as well stop by the mall while I was at it. Besides, I've been told by a few friends my ratchet changing room selfies are actually their favourite blog posts of mine to read. If that's really the case, y'all are weird.
But here you go.
Topshop Gingham Cold Shoulder Ruffle Top
Cold shoulder and off-shoulder tops have been trendy for about a year now, but this summer, I'd say the trend is at its prime. I have been seeing them absolutely everywhere. Though what goes up must come down, so I'll have my fun trying the trend while it's still hot. A variation of the exposed shoulder top I've been seeing lately is the ruffled cold shoulder. I love it! It's elegant and feminine. This gingham shirt from Topshop struck me as a mix between the ruffled cold shoulder and this Self-Portrait asymmetrical frill shirt I've been noticing in Holt Renfrew's window display. I hoped I would exude the glowing beauty of other girls I've seen wearing tops like these, but the final result was slightly underwhelming. The flared hem and sleeves did not complement the ruffles, and the shirt would have looked better if the silhouette was slimmed down (as I've tried to show in the photo).
TFNC Kimberly Jumpsuit
You might wonder whether there's a method to my madness when choosing what clothes to try on for my blog posts. While obviously I try on items I personally like, I also pick out items I would never actually buy. Oftentimes, these are trendy items, pieces with unusual designs, or things I don't have any occasion to wear. This jumpsuit was of the latter. Although I adore the sophistication of a jumpsuit, I can't fathom any occasion in my uneventful daily life that would necessitate such elegance. Except, well, taking pictures for my changing room blog posts. The lace shoulders on this TFNC jumpsuit were a nice touch, and the legs had a decently slim cut. My only complaint is how the off-shoulder didn't complement the class of the jumpsuit that well. I actually found it more flattering to wear the neckline higher up on my shoulders - like a boat neck.
Topshop MOTO Soft Cold Shoulder Dress
Yes, another cold shoulder. I thought the soft denim on this dress was a trendy companion to the exposed shoulder, and I was interested in how the shoulder hung lower on my arms. But overall, nothing too special. The cold shoulders ended up looking odd from the side; they were too severe for there to be a sense of continuity in the dress.
Topshop Floral-Printed Midi Dress
I picked up this dress purely for the unexpected hook and eye closures running down the torso. Although they reminded me of a corset, I knew the dress was too flimsy for that to be the intended effect. So I was very curious to see how this strange creation would look. After putting it on, I learned it was just as unusual on me as it was on the rack. The deep v-neck leading into the black strip of hooks was not flattering, nor was the square slit running up the front. A mumsy dress trying too hard to be youthful. Basically, I tried this dress on so you don't have to. You're welcome. Topshop Embroidered Jamie Jeans
In one of my recent posts, I mentioned how patiently I had been waiting for these Topshop floral embroidered black jeans to go on sale. Last week, they finally went down from $120 to $48. And yet after all this waiting, these pants turned out less than stellar. I had been putting these jeans on a pedestal for months, but trying them on with the intent of buying them broke my stubborn obsession and allowed me to see these pants for what they truly were. The floral embroidery: absolutely stunning, but itchy on the inside. The cutting on the ankles: uneven and flared out. (Granted, these jeans are supposed to be cropped above the ankle, so I can understand why the ankle is cut wider.) If the ankles didn't look so weird, I might have whipped out my credit card. But for me, perfection is vital if spending $50 on a pair of jeans.
Topshop Embroidered Jamie Jeans
In an attempt to recuperate from a dashed dream, I picked up another pair of floral embroidered jeans. With mom-jean cutting and rips at the knees, this was a trendier variation of the embroidered Jamie. While the floral detailing was right up my alley, I still had many complaints. The embroidery made the lines of the leg very bumpy on the sides, the crotch was not as fitted as I would've liked, and the ripped knees made the overall look seem cluttered. However, I did walk away with one tidbit of knowledge: ripped knees on tight jeans make bending your legs to sit much easier.
H&M Frilled Mesh Blouse
I've passed by this sheer blouse multiple times in H&M's window display, and each time, I always think it looks so pretty. That day, I finally took it off the rack to try it on. I love the seafoam colour, and the tight ruffles and ruching are a great feminine touch. The elastic around the waist also helps add flounce and shape to the bottom half. However, what I didn't realize is this top is completely transparent. For wearability, I would have preferred H&M add in their own lining so I wouldn't have to expend mental energy thinking about how to layer this blouse.
H&M Jumpsuit with a Flounce
Another jumpsuit and exposed shoulder! I grabbed this jumpsuit because I found the sleek minimalism and emerald tone to be quite appealing. After trying it on, I noticed how everything was just generally...broad. I struggled with how exaggerated the flounce was at the torso. If the torso was sleeker and the wide-legs were slimmed down into a leaner cut, the shoulders would stand out to make a more sophisticated statement.
H&M Denim Bib Overall Shorts
I found these short overalls in the younger section of H&M, so I knew I would be showing off a more adolescent look here. Overalls have been trendy for a while, but this was actually my first time trying them on. And honestly, I didn't hate them. I liked how hip and casual they were. The ease of just throwing on a t-shirt underneath is quite appealing, and the look can be effortlessly dressed up with funky accessories. The only thing is I wouldn't recommend this particular pair from H&M - the bum is cut pretty flat so your rounded behind will look more or less like a straight line.
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