Saturday, November 19th- 5:01 am: My alarm clock goes off…a mere three hours after falling asleep (as I usually get home from work a little after midnight then need some toast and downtime prior to putting my head to rest). Painful.
I linger in bed toasting my toes with a blowdryer before rising to claim my sole cup of coffee and a small bowl of frozen blueberries and Fage. I lay in bed until 6:07 or so when I decide to slip on a pair of leggings, t-shirt, North Face, parka, and rainboots and decide to go Louis Vuitton over Jimmy Choo for choice of purse. There has to be some element of glamour to my premature morning.
Make-up? Cannot be bothered. Some lotion and a few spritzes of Parisienne and I am out of the house, in 28 degree Fahrenheit, pitch black darkness en route to Kyle’s then Nazneen’s house.
By 6:46 am, we are Parked above Tiffany & Co, standing outside H&M with around twenty-five or so individuals ahead of us, some CRAZY enough to have camped out from the prior night. Now that’s too far. I can honestly say that albeit free Chanel purses, there is nothing in the universe you will get me to sleep on a sidewalk for. Nothing. But queuing with my two prime fashionista (fashionist-o for Kyle) friends for a little over an hour? Completely manageable. Especially with the hopes of some Versace.
Yet, of course the next woman to queue behind us had to be one of those nonstop talker people who does not get the hint to get out of your ear. She was probably in her sixties, wearing head to toe variations of mismatched leopard print (leopard print fake uggs, leopard print leggings, etc) and a beret.
At first we were able to tolerate her stories about her poodles, her work hours, and how CRAZY Missoni for Target was…but not too long after she was really beginning to push the envelope; some examples:
1) She asked Naz where she was from to which Naz replied, “India.”
Her reply: “Indian? You don’t look Indian! Are you sure you aren’t half American? I know a lot of Indian people and they don’t look like you! Why would you come to Portland if you’re Indian?” ….etc (continues to accuse Naz of being a ‘half-bred’)
2) She looks at Naz and I and say, “I am sure you two are probably glamour girls at night, but right now you don’t look it at all.” Excuse me. How do you even reply to that?
3) She constantly harasses Kyle…for being cold and not having pockets in his jacket to warm his hands in.
4) Looks at Naz and I again and says, ” Oh you girls are small, I doubt there will be any of your sizes left! Did you see all those Asian girls at the front? So what size do you girls wear? Let me guess, you’re probably like a four or a six or something? (imagine another several minutes going on about speculating our clothing sizes)” All I could think about in my slightly bitchy inadequately caffeinated frigid underslept state is how dare this woman guess that I have a REAL NUMBER for a clothing size!
After that, we adamantly tried to ignore crazy poodle-mismatched leopard print lady and thankfully were saved by the wristband man:
Green wristbands= Second group of twenty people to be let into the Versace section. The rules of the event state that no one person can purchase more than two of the same item and that each group of twenty gets fifteen minutes to scrounge the collection. Of course, little did we know that the first group of people were a bunch of ruthless E-bay hungry vultures.
If you want to see the animal-scenes in Mean Girls in real life, all you need to do is go to an H&M Designer Event. Crazy sunken-eye men and women stuffing Costco bags full of everything they can get their hands on- cleaning every dress, shoebox, and jacket off the rack. Absolutely disgusting, dignity-lacking behaviour.
Cool, there goes just about every item I had my heart set on. All for a bunch of greedy sonofabitches.
Once it was time for us to be let in, I decided to take the high road and not rush around like a hungry hyena. Plus there was an audience of the next groups watching from the outside, and really, if people are going to watch me shop, I am going to do it classy, like a lady. I managed to find a few random pieces in my size, headed to the fitting room while everyone else was fighting over Palm tree-print leggings and calmly tested the goods.
Luckily, at the end of it, Kyle was able to get the shirt he came for, and Naz the adorable little bag she had her eye on. I, on the other hand had hoped for several other items- all of which had either been scalped by the E-bay Bastards or simply not carried in the Portland store. However, I did walk away with a couple of unusual treasures:
Tacky? Think what you will. I could not put this dress down after I tried it on. First of all, it is 100% silk, and secondly, it just might be the best fitting dress I own- it was almost as if Donatella stitched the dress to my body herself. And though many of Versace’s designs are a tad too flamboyant for my taste, I will say that it is one of the few brands that fits me well without any tailoring, which I am glad translated to the H&M line as well.
We concluded our spectacle of a morning with a classy breakfast of benedicts at Urban Farmer at the Nines Hotel, then proceeded to go home and go back to bed, as we did have a Saturday night to get glamour-ed out for.
What is your wake-up early/stay up late event vice? Midnight movie showings? Designer events? New Apple gadgets?
Have you ever been to an H&M Designer Event?
Which brand(s) do you consider most flattering on you?