My husband is a school librarian and a veritable expert in children’s literature.  He runs a book club business here in LA and is working on launching a children’s lit blog.  He is one of the most creative, intelligent and idealistic people I have ever known.

He is also absolutely the most dedicated:


Today was “Celebrity Day” at his school and he spent the entire day as Slash. Dear Husband: you’re the best and I love you.  (The fact that this week alone required us both to wear costumes to our jobs may explain why we have a plastic tub full of “funny hats” in our garage.)

In related news, that skull scarf he’s wearing belongs to me.  It was on my Christmas wish list and it was $6 on Amazon.  The last time I wore it around these parts, someone I know told me she had the same one.  The difference?  Hers was Alexander McQueen and cost her $295.  (The other difference?  Hers was chiffon and mine is polyester, which is a total non-issue for me, as I tend to keep my neck away from open flames as a matter of course anyway.)

I’ve lived the last eight and half years of my life in Los Angeles, and I have yet to understand the obsession with designer products.  I can’t even count the number of times someone has complimented my outfit and then asked me, “Who makes your sweater/bag/shoes?!?” only to be shocked when I reply with glee, “Forever 21/H&M/Old Navy!”  There is something so totally satisfying to me about dressing myself like a human being without spending an obscene amount of money that I can’t imagine the thrill of owning something with a fancy label on it could compare.  I have a few nice things (like an incredible leather jacket my husband got me for an anniversary), but for the most part, as a person who is likely to spill more coffee on my pants than I manage to get into my mouth, I am way more comfortable and far less anxious wearing items that can be destroyed and then easily replaced.

(Full disclosure: I don’t like wearing thrift shop clothes.  I always imagine them on dead people and it ruins the experience.)


12 thoughts on “Slashed.

  1. Why didn’t I know you when I lived in la?? That used to happen to me all the time, asking which designer I was wearing (especially since I worked in the fashion biz.) I was always wearing old navy or gap usually and my clients would always balk. I have no fashion sense really so I didn’t care, but it made me laugh.

    • Me too. My 17-year-old brother legit shops in our grandpa’s closet, so when this song first appeared, I sent him a link, thinking it was perfect for him. His reply: “This song is way too mainstream.” Which is pretty much the most fitting response from someone who wears their grandfather’s abandoned Cosby sweaters.

  2. I love the thriftshop song!! I have trouble with thriftshop clothing because I hate shopping and thiftshop shopping requires time and patience. I bought a coach purse once and felt guilty for a whole year, but then it lasted the whole year! and then another year, and then another year! So it has definitely worked for it’s worth. I hate the expensive shit that’s not made well! That’s even worse.

    • I JUST bought a North Face jacket on super sale and felt so guilty about it that despite my wearing it for the last two weeks, the tags are still on it, stuffed into one of the pockets. I have huge buyer’s remorse when I make big purchases. (The plus side? It is the warmest thing I own. So you’re right – sometimes it is totally worth it.)


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s