Do you see this glorious oversized men’s varsity cardigan? DO YOU SEE IT?! It’s glorious. I got it yesterday for under ten dollars from some store that looks like Abercrombie, but somehow wasn’t Abercrombie. Whatever, store. I’m on to you. I almost didn’t get it because it was tagged with a price reduction of $19.90. I $9.90 lurrrve it, but it wouldn’t ask it to meet my parents or go away for the weekend or any of those next level commitments at $19.90. Let’s be real. But I inquired at the register and found the sign in front of the rack, not the orange sticker affixed to the garment, correctly displayed the price and I was in $9.90 oversized sweater heaven. It’s like seventh heaven only less awkward, without pretending to kiss someone with bad breath, and infinitely cozier.
Clearly I am overjoyed that I have no need to buy another sweater ever again now that I’ve won the cardigan lottery, but I have a problem with this angelic shopping experience. I was huddled in the corner of their scrawny men’s clearance section, adorning myself with this sweater for a full five minutes. Did you see this rich shade of Kelly Green? I mean, COME ON! Of course this is for me. Men don’t deserve things as luxurious as this. Ok. Maybe we all deserve equal luxury, but that’s exactly my point. Where am I going with this? The pissant cashier asked me if I was buying this cardigan for someone special, implying a man needed to own this men’s sweater. Are you serious? Excuse me sir, I am all about that cardigan swag. I have a Master’s in Library Studies, biotch. That’s practically a certificate in cardigans and cats. And tea, but that’s a whole other story. Bottom line, I felt like the cashier was trying to throw shade on my find and I will not have it.
I had to pick up the last remnants of my stuff from my old abode today. Rather than slum it and slap on some Soffe shorts and a nerdy tee, I knew I was going to pass this overgrown building I always meant to use for outfit posts more frequently than I did. So I wore a fucking sweater in the summer and a skirt to move my television, rice cooker, colander, and various other bits. Why? Because I’m dedicated to revamping this blog. I am quite over the snide remarks that are in no way shape or form snide from all you eager readers (see also: Jenne, Getty, and like…yeah that’s it). I want to provide you with pictures where it looks like I’m a damsel that just happened to wander into a wood with an abandoned pub from the 1800s. So, I manned up and slapped on a skirt. You’re welcome. What’s not pictured are the Morris Township workers fixing the street giving me weird looks as I set the timer app and frolicked through pricker bushes and stared off into space. They asked if I was working on a project. Ha. No.
After schlepping my stuff into the car, I made my way to the ReStore in Randolph, just to browse. Ha. That was dumb. Clearly I bought furniture while my car was packed with odds and ends and now I have a week to find time to get back there and collect my mid-century mustard tufted chair. You know what? I don’t even care. It was worth it. That chair is stately and makes me feel like a princess. I don’t even care that nothing else in my room color palette is mustard. I will find a way, guys. The real gem of this trip was all the wonderful senior citizens that prowl furniture deals giving me tips (did you know you have to shove your face into the seat of an upholstered chair before you buy it? Because I didn’t…) and suggestions for other places to scout. As if buying a chair when I really needed a dresser wasn’t enough, I hit up the ReStore in Wayne after unloading my car and snagged a retro vanity for $35! Shut up! That’s a steal. Suuuuure the mirror was ripped off and parts of the trim are missing, but that’s part of the journey, isn’t it? Freaking my new landlord/roommate out by flipping furniture in her garage seems like a fantastic way to say, “‘ello!”
Shoes: Converse outlet gems
Skirt: Urban Outfitters clearance rack
Shirt: idk..Old Navy? Target? It’s a grey tee with a useless pocket. Who cares?
Purse: garage sale