The Fashionista Files (13 page)

DISCOUNT DARLING

Where to Find the Über-chic on the Über-cheap
OUTLET MALLS ACROSS THE COUNTRY

Woodbury Commons in Central Valley, New York: Barneys! Saks! Chanel! YSL! Prada! Celine! Puma! Gucci! Dolce! Bottega Veneta! Dior! Frette sheets, even!

Manchester, Vermont: Burberry! Coach! Ralph Lauren! Armani! Calvin Klein! Tse Cashmere! Versace! (J.Crew, Levi’s, and Gap, too!)

Desert Hills Premium Outlets in Palm Springs, California: YSL! Gucci! Sergio Rossi! Giorgio Armani! Tod’s! Judith Leiber! Samsonite! Bottega Veneta! Max Mara! Calvin, Donna, Ralph! John Varvatos and Zegna (men’s designers we love)! Versace! And Levi’s, Vans, Izod, Earl Jean, and Lucky Brand blue jeans!

Secaucus, New Jersey: Calvin! Donna! Gucci! And more, more, more!

SawGrass Mill in Fort Lauderdale, Florida: Off 5th Saks Fifth Avenue Outlet, Last Call! The Clearance Center from Neiman Marcus, Disney’s Character Premiere, Kenneth Cole, Tommy Hilfiger Company Store, Mikasa Factory Store, Banana Republic Factory Store, Calvin Klein Outlet Store, Gap Outlet, Polo Ralph Lauren Factory Store, and more.

Franklin Mills in Philadelphia is one of the world’s largest outlet stores with outposts for all the essential designer stores, including Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, Polo/Ralph Lauren, Escada, Donna Karan, and Kenneth Cole. 1455 Franklin Mills Circle (800) 336-MALL.

OTHER CHEAP AND CHIC
ALTERNATIVES

Consignment shops, which sell amazing designer clothing that other fashionistas have previously owned. In New York City, Naomi Campbell and Gisele Bundchen have been known to unload bags upon bags of samples and free clothes they’ve gotten from designers as gifts at I.N.A.

www.ebay.com
and other Web sites, like
www.yoox.com
, which is known for selling discount end-of-season designer clothing and iconic vintage pieces.

Sample sales (they are often listed in local or regional magazines like TimeOut, and Web sites like
www.dailycandy.com
). If you’re ever in New York City, loiter in the lobbies of the Hachette Filipacchi, Condé Nast, and Hearst buildings, where you may come across flyers for sample sales geared for insiders.

End-of-season sales. Just as stores start getting in the next season’s clothes (about three to four months before the season begins), current season’s merch goes on sale. If you become very friendly with the salespeople, they just may put something aside for you and bring it back out when it’s 60 percent off.

Discount stores like Loehmann’s, Marshalls, TJMaxx, Filene’s Basement (fabulous fur salon!), and Century 21, which is in New York City, have designer wares, but success is hit or miss.

QUIZ

What Is Your Shopping M.O.?
Answer These Three Questions and Find Out

You need a dress for a fabulous soirée and you want to look hot. You:

Blow off whatever you have to do during the day so you can devote yourself to hitting every major store you love in search of the perfect look. You find it immediately. In fact, you find two . . . three . . . four! Such decisions! You rationalize: They’re all different and you could really use each of them. While you’re at it, you pick up another pair of black strappy shoes (of course you need a new pair for the dress— God forbid you wear any of the three other pairs you have just like it!), a couple of sexy tops, a handbag, and earrings, all the while putting a few other things on hold. In your frenzy, you forget about lunch—and the conference call you scheduled a week in advance. By the time you get home, you call one of the stores, frantic! You really need a jacket or some kind of wrap to go with these new things. They must have something they can messenger over!

Happily get something new—if it’s at least 40 percent off of retail . . . or more.

You get one thing you’re into. But you’re not quite satisfied. So you run out and find more. And more. And more. You bring everything home, try them on again, and pick your favorite, which you keep. Ridden with guilt of overbuying, you return everything else in the morning.

Make do with what you already have and, if you must, you get something new. A classic piece that lasts a lifetime. You want an investment, not a fad you’ll get sick of or won’t want to be caught dead in next season.

Raid your mom’s closet for something she wore on her honeymoon or find a way to make an old frock feel new.

You have extra money to burn. You:

Spend every last dime (even if it’s only for one thing)— and then dip into your funds for bills, rent, or whatever else you’re obligated to. If you have to bounce a check while you’re at it . . . well . . . who cares. You’ll deal with it later.

Get giddy with excitement and get as much as you possibly can within your budget, which is a lot, considering you got it all at a good price. Heh, heh, heh!

Binge! You can’t get enough. But you crash after the high and bring everything back as soon as possible.

Put it aside for a rainy day. You’re sure you’ll need something chic at some point, and when you really do, you’ll be prepared.

Hit the thrift store with a vengeance. There’s a Pucci velvet jacket you’ve been dying for.

Your mom/husband/very practical best friend asks you about your day after you go shopping. You:

Hide the bags, throw away the receipts, rip the tags off everything you bought, and discard all evidence. It’s called “lie and deny.”

Brag about the deal you just got. They were practically giving the stuff away!

Try to sell them some of the things you bought and don’t need, but are interrupted when your therapist finally calls you back.

Show them the timeless, trans-seasonal item(s) and explain all the many uses you’ll get out of them.

Bust out the new threads and a book with an old picture of Jackie O, who had the exact same thing!

The Profiles

If you answered a) to the above, we have one thing to say: Danger, Will Robinson! Houston, you have a problem! In your world, more is more! You’d better make a lot of money—or marry well, my friend. Otherwise, it’s time to consider the Priory, the Betty Ford Clinic of London. It may cost about $4,000 a week, but it will save you from financial ruin (and buying many unnecessary things, like, ahem, a white Alexander McQueen rabbit-fur jacket) in the long run.

If you answered b), you’re a discount diva—a bargainista— who revels in the thrill of a good deal and navigates sale season with precise, scientific skill. If there’s a pair of YSL shoes for $99 within a twenty-mile radius of you, you’ll find it. Your closet may be worth thousands—hundreds of thousands, even—but nothing cost you more than $100!

If you answered c) to all of the above, you’re what’s known as the “bulimic buyer.” You fill voids by buying, buying, buying, and buying way more than you really want and need. Overcome with painful feelings of guilt and regret afterward, you have to purge, purge, and purge by taking almost everything back to the store. Warning: Avoid all shops that have a “store credit only” return policy. And consider herbal remedies like kava kava. It’s very good for curbing obsessive compulsive behavior.

If you answered d) to all of the above, you’re Miss Practicality. You appreciate sales, yet you don’t have a problem plunking down a grand or two if the item(s) in question are true assets. You avoid big trends and anything that’s “of the moment.” You hate to be “dated” and recognized for wearing something that can easily be identified to a specific season. No one will ever say, “Love that Calvin, fall/winter ’02” to you! You’re a smart, elegant shopper, the type who really thinks about what you buy and doesn’t do anything rashly. You buy only what you’ll get a lot of wear and use out of. (Mel and Karen hate you for being so controlled and balanced. You’re what they call “n.f.”—no fun!)

If you answered e) to all of the above, you’re the thrifty lady. You abhor anything designer-y, flashy, and new. You spend hours sifting through racks at vintage stores, flea markets, army-navy shops, and Mom’s and Grandma’s hand-me-downs. You can tell what year something was made and which designer did it just by glancing. With a collection of old belts, handbags, shoes, and lingerie from the twenties to the seventies, you have a natural boho style and an uncanny way of turning dusty old frocks into modern masterpieces. You think that most contemporary high design is all hype, glorified by the media—and no one crafts clothing, creates textiles, and manages details the way they used to. All of today’s collections are just knockoffs from yesteryear anyway. And you mock the high price tags of modern-day fashion.

*If you had a mix of answers, God bless. You’re a true fashion darling. There’s a little bit of each of these personalities in your soul.

SCENES FROM A MALL (OR, OUR CRAZIEST SHOPPING ESCAPADES ... OY!)

A Day at the Outlets
KAREN AND MELISSA (GUEST-STARRING SALLY, OUR FASHIONISTA FRIEND)

A day of outlet shopping at Woodbury Commons in Central Valley, New York, is serious business. We woke up at the crack of dawn so we would arrive before the crowds poured in. At seven-thirty A.M., we piled into the bright, shiny, chic red Volvo convertible (borrowed for the day—when you’re shopping, you have to look good, even driving in l’auto . . .).

“Welcome to my world,” Mel said, leading us to the entrance. A seasoned pro, she studied the map and marked off a path for us to follow in a manner so meticulous, you’d think we were Frodo, trying to bring the “precious” back to its rightful place.

At Dolce & Gabbana, we pounced on diaphanous dresses, white corduroy suits, eel-skin heels, all things we coveted seasons ago and could not afford. The prices? Amazing. $200 for patchwork leather pants that were originally at least two grand, and a rack of goods for $100. Sadly, everything was too tight, too revealing, too sexy, even for Karen, whose style tends toward the tight, revealing side. Sally, whom we brought solely as a voice of reason, to keep us in check when we begin sale-goggling and start buying too many things we don’t need, made the first purchase—a pair of pointy-toed pony-hair pumps.

Next stop: Chanel. Several totes were examined. Everything is in the $500 range instead of the $1,500 range. It’s heaven. Karen put a $400 black-patent clutch on hold, afraid to make her first buy so soon into the game, without seeing what else was out there. Mel contemplated a clutch, emblazoned with Lichenstein-esque graphics, and decided to pass. “Not for my first Chanel,” she said. “A girl’s first Chanel has to be classic.”

We left empty-handed. A miracle. We were starving. Time for food court action. But—oh!—there’s Prada. Like magnets we were drawn into the store. We had our priorities. Inside, it was like the pages of
In Style
had come to life. There was the dress Cate Blanchett wore to a premiere. And—look!—Nicole Kidman looked unbelievable in that! We flipped for the ruched $5,000 goddess dresses from Mt. Olympus (a.k.a. Hollywood), but sadly, we mere mortals could not pull them off (a relief—they were still $1,500 a pop). We contemplated a $75 transparent plastic raincoat and wondered if it was too
victim.
It was.

Before making our exit, Sally scored another purchase: a jewel-tone orange blouse that looks gorge against her creamy skin. Karen convinced the salesperson, her new best friend, to put a lavender chiffon poofy-sleeved blouse on hold—even though the store had a no-hold policy. Sally walked out with two bags. “I can’t believe I’m the one shopping! I was supposed to tell you guys to stop shopping!” she yelled. Outlets can do that to a person!

After a quick lunch (cheese steaks sans bun, and wilted greens), we hit the mother ship. The Gucci outlet was pandemonium. It was as crowded as the Gap with Japanese tourists elbowing one another for $50 logo wallets. We ripped through the racks. Karen decided on a satin skirt, a top she had loved last season (which was still classic enough to wear now—a real find!), but was torn over a lavender dress—it was one of those “it would look better if I lost five pounds” kind of things. Mel picked up her first purchase—a $140 tank top (bargain?), down from $500—and we took off, leaving $1,400 of Karen’s merchandise on hold so she could think about the purple dress.

At Dior, Sally and Mel got matching skirts—crazy, embellished, Mexican fiesta–inspired works of art, bedecked with elaborate beadwork. Mel also bucked up for a leather dominatrix skirt—a size too small (leather expands!), and Karen finally took the plunge— smokin’ tapestry-print midcalf boots, the same pair that Sally bought (she was getting out of control, our so-called voice of reason).

At the Barneys outlet, Mel was drawn to enormous corduroy-and-suede Balenciaga bags for $260 (from $1,260)! Should she or shouldn’t she? The pressure! Sally thought it looked like a diaper bag. Karen screamed, “I think it’s fantastic! It makes a statement: ‘Here I am with my humongous Balenciaga bag!’ ” It was a statement Mel was prepared to make. She put down the AmEx. But the guilt started to kick in. Although it didn’t stop her from making a pit stop to pick up $149 Bottega Veneta snakeskin shoes (they were originally $600!), and Sally got one last thing at Fendi—a wallet—while Karen picked up her load at Gucci, making her total $1,800—$800 more than her “allowed” amount.

Lugging our bags, we perused Tod’s—and the doorman actually said, “That’s enough! You girls should go home.” (Signs you know you’ve gone and done it!) After a quick lap and a final perusal of Chanel (which Karen finally decided against), it was time to go home.

We couldn’t fit all the bags in the trunk, and Mel, who sat in back, was almost suffocated by our purchases. There was no talking on the way home. Silence. We were so depressed. It was a day of reckless, fun shopping, and we spent money we did not have. Ugh, fashion. Such a disease. Would Mel fess up to her husband about what she’d done? In the car, she talked about getting home quickly so she could hide the bags. She freaked out even more when she checked her messages—and there was one from the bank, making sure someone didn’t swipe her credit card (you know you’re in trouble when . . .).

You know you’ve overshopped when you can’t even close the trunk!

Did we really need this stuff, we wondered. Why couldn’t we just be happy with Banana Republic and J.Crew? Actually, we are, but we get that extra thrill from high design, making runway clothes a reality. Anxiety and all. By the time we got home—and unwrapped our loot—the guilt subsided. The stuff wasn’t returnable anyway. So we might as well enjoy it. And we made a plan to return the following week!