Today's Bank Queue Made Bearable

My Thoughts on Marriage: The Lowdown

For the record, I have nothing against marriage. True I have always been vocal about my lack of interest in getting married but that doesn't mean I disapprove of it. If a friend decided to get married, I will not threaten her with a knife and it won't be the end of our friendship. Marriage, like many things, is a choice. Well, except of course for those who get married with guns pointed to their heads or those who need a marriage certificate to justify the growing womb. And there are also those whose lifelong dream is to have a family but remain single against their wishes due to the workings of fate beyond their control. In my case, it's a choice of steering clear of it.

Most of my friends are already married with kids. I can't say all of them are happy but I can say that a lot of them are. There's no mistaking the glow in the face of a happily married woman in the same way that you can't miss the smile that doesn't reach the eyes of someone who's in an unhappy marriage. Happy or not, I have only the highest admiration for these friends because they share these denominators: selflessness, willingness to sacrifice and unconditional love for their family. I always wish I could be like them and try to understand and appreciate the appeal and benefits of marriage ( of which there are a lot I'm sure) but alas, I'm too selfish and too much of a loner to want to cross the Rubicon. Consider the case of raising children. Nora Ephron wrote that patience with children is something that a childless person can never understand and that resonates very well with my own view. I love children but only when they're all cute and nice. That love can never extend to having to deal with their tantrums or feeding them for 10 hours (That is why I understand why Kitty Go is married but refuses to have children). Add to all that my inability to love myself which casts serious doubt that anyone can truly love me blackheads and all, and it rounds up my case for opting singlehood over motherhood, parenthood and marriage.

Marching to the beat of a different drummer is not without its consequences though. Whenever I poke fun at marriage or criticize it, it is nothing personal. I usually do it for fun, but oftentimes as a way of getting back at those married people who hold their noses up so high you see nothing but their untrimmed nose hair. Gross, I know. Worse are those who like to assume that they've achieved nirvana by virtue of that hyphenated name and look down on you as if you're lacking an arm or ear. The worst are the ones who think that marriage is everyone's be-all and end-all and refuse to accept if you say that you are single by choice. The facial expressions reveal all sorts of conjectures like you're probably unable to bear children ( in my case, too old!), not marketable (in my case, past the marketable age) or still biding time inside the closet gathering enough courage to come out. These things used to affect me and drive me insane. They still do now though to a lesser degree because age has somehow inured me to it and taught me to be a little wiser. The way to deal is to stay as far as possible from these so-called friends who carry their marriage like a badge. I figured if they don't understand me and can't respect my choice, then they have no place in my life and are not worthy of my time and attention. They'll just be there in the list of my life's poor decisions and bad choices. Now on second thought, when I quoted Groucho Marx by saying "marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution," I realize that I was actually getting a bit personal there. BUT only to those who rouse my ire and deserve it.

So no, I do not harbor any kind of resentment towards married people. It's not sour grapes or defensiveness when I mock marriage or like to highlight its disadvantages. They're merely traps and predicaments that I foresee myself getting mired into if I decided to get hitched. I know of and have met a lot of wonderful people who have equally wonderful spouses, lovely children and a loving family. And I'd be a hypocrite to say that I don't admire and envy them. But believe me when I say that marriage is not for me. I am happy. Please be happy for me and don't force me to settle down. Do not be unkind and think me queer for choosing my own happiness and I promise not to laugh at you for marrying that loser. If I am moody sometimes, please understand that we all have bad days so don't be too excited to attribute it to old-maid syndrome. If you don't understand any of this, it's okay to pretend. But in the event that I change my mind, I assure you'll get an invitation that reads: You're right. You can have the last laugh.

Beware of This Kind of Inconvenience

The Consequences of Using a Dictionary

Click images to enlarge.

Newsweak

Newsweek wants a share of the pie that The Economist has always enjoyed which is a small but loyal readership that does not mind paying the expensive subscription rate. So it decided to raise its subscription rate this year to purposefully drive away poor readers like me who can't afford it as part of a grand scheme to make the affluent ones stay and target the wealthier group as new or potential subscribers. This is in an effort to cut printing and postage costs and increase advertising rates. I think there are more reasons that it won't work than it will though.

For one, Newsweek is unlike The Economist in terms of content and reporting style. The Economist writes about serious intelligent stuff that only a few would bother to read (or can understand) while Newsweek appeals more to the masses with its easy writing and topics. Sure it recently changed its layout and style. The pages are now filled with opinions on important global issues and news that the regular reader is tempted go back to the cover to check if he's holding another magazine. The new look does not only require a lot of getting used to, it also screams uncertainty and nervousness. It forgets that it's not only about justifying the price hike by way of excellent or intelligent reporting and content which are important but not so much when the result is forced, unoriginal and has zero appeal. Besides, with today's economic climate the rich are no longer that different from you and me. Who's willing to pay an amount for something mediocre when one can add a little more and get the best? That's the new Newsweek for you. Thanks but no thanks.

Still I owe it to them for forcing me take one subscription off my self-imposed financial burden, making me US$220 richer. At least something good came out of that great plan to save the ailing news magazine. Except that I was the one who took the benefit. For now.

One Fine Day at the Park

Yesterday I visited Lu Xun Park and this greeted me in the washroom.

Now this is the pièce de résistance at the park's entrance which is actually found in all other parks in the city. (Click photo to see larger image)

I just love living in Middle Kingdom.

Vanity Issues and Recession Chic — NOT

Somebody please help me get a copy of the November issue of Vanity Fair. 

                              

I've practically scoured all bookstores I know but with no success. I've been having sleepless nights because of this. Seriously. I don't get how bookstores here can't be consistent with their magazine supply. One month they have it, the next they don't. Out of frustration I've decided to directly subscribe to Conde Nast for my Vogue and Vanity Fair issues. (Why didn't I think of this before?) Beginning next year I won't only  be assured of my monthly copies, I'll also enjoy at least 62% savings off the bookstore price. With the current economic crisis, what's not to love about money-saving deals?

Also on the saving front, my siblings and I are giving up our daily Starbucks habit in exchange for Dunkin Donuts. Kidding. The Dunkin Donuts part I mean. Yes, no more vanilla latte (a newfound love) fixes every day. I'll start the self-imposed ban after I get the planner for 2009. I need five more holes on the stamp card which means forcing my siblings one last time to order the required toffee nut latte. Yay! I can't wait.

Anyway, in anticipation of recession, next year will be all about taking the subway and bus instead of cabs, more home-cooked meals instead of eating out, less trip to the cleaners for items that can be washed at home, reading in bookstores instead of buying books, and spending only on necessities. Saving is clearly the new spending.

Me, Myself and My Cellphone

What kind of absentmindedness is worse than throwing one's cellphone into the washing machine and not realizing it until the machine started sounding like it was tearing itself in half?



Nothing.



What's the likelihood of it actually happening?



Perhaps one in a million probabilities.



What brainless person would commit such act of retardation?



Me.

Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster

An engrossing and entertaining book by Dana Thomas on the history of luxury, and how its definition and accessibility has changed over the years.

Find out, among other interesting discoveries, how the big fashion names started in the business, and how they're more concerned with making heaps of money by resorting to assembly-line production than individual handcraftsmanship like they used to do.

Excerpt:

Walk up to a luxury brand store and a dark-suited man with a listening device tucked in his ear will silently pull open the heavy glass door. Inside there is a hush as slim, demurely dressed sales assistants await you in a posh minimalist space in neutral tones with chrome accents. The first thing you'll encounter are shelves full of the brand's latest fashion handbags as well as its classic designs, displayed like sculptures, each lighted with its own tiny spotlight. Glass cases are filled with monogram-covered wallets, billfolds, and business card holders: the lower-priced, entry-level items aimed at aspirational middle-market customers. Chances are, the slim assistants will make the sale right there in the very first room. Through calculated marketing strategies and with the support of fashion magazines, luxury companies in the last ten years have created the phenomenon of the handbag season — the must-have around the world that will catapult sales and stock prices. Louis Vuitton's sales of Japanese artist Takashi Murakami-designed smiling cherry purses were almost single-handedly responsible for double-digit growth for Louis Vuitton in the first quarter of 2005. The average markup on a handbag is ten to twelve times production cost. And Vuitton prices are never marked down.

Get a copy. It's worth the money and time.

Another Shoe-Lusting Episode and La Lola Brings Sexy Back

It was supposed to be just another bank errand. I should've gone back to the office after and not walk into the Zara store --- again. Now I am coveting this pair of cutout bootie. I tried them and they're not comfortable to walk on; and at 999 yuan, more uncomfortable for the wallet.

So I walked away but couldn't get it off my mind. I think I'll have to settle for this other pair of platform sandals which costs less but is taking forever to go on sale. I hold my breath each time I go in the store to check worrying that it may disappear from the shelves. Last I checked there's only a pair of my size left. I wonder what is taking them so long to bring the price down.

Also today in Starbucks, I saw this lola.

At first, she was recreating Sharon Stone's leg-crossing moment in Basic Instinct. Probably realizing that it wasn't working, she decided to sit still moments later. But not without pulling her skirt several inches up! Did she really think anyone would be...uhmm... interested?!!

10 Random Truths I Believe In

1. Random acts of kindness - Be kind, especially to people who deserve it. It does not take a lot to do good or help others. Sometimes even a smile or a word of thanks could mean a lot to the harried waitress who's had a long day with thankless, demanding customers.

2. The power of the high heels - For all the discomfort that usually outweighs the comfort, there's no denying that a pair of heels can actually boost one's confidence, moxie and sex appeal. It's the only thing now that is not prejudiced against my weight. I can still wear the same pair I bought six years ago when I was 10-15 pounds lighter than I am now, and actually look slimmer.

3. A good book is the best travel companion - During long commutes or long flights, there's no better way to kill time ( or worth one's while) than to read a good book.

4. The value of thrift - It's in the little things. No leftovers after each meal. Giving away instead of throwing the old sheets. Not keeping the tap running while brushing.

5. Respect and kindness towards the elderly - Someday when we grow old like them, we will be more than thankful when someone gives up his bus seat for us, or patiently repeats himself when we dont get it the first time.

6. A good massage - Nothing works better in taking away stress, and calming both the mind and soul. It's affordable royal pampering.

7. Counting the little blessings - Because it's the perfect way to realize how the little lows in life don't amount to the million other highs.

8. The little black dress - It's timeless, safe and forever stylish. You can never go wrong with it.

9. Constant laughter in one's life - Clichéd as it may sound, life is truly too short to spend it in anger, unhappiness, and all other negative thoughts.

10. Sh*t always happens when you're in a hurry - And there's no better way to deal with it than to just deal with it.

Dear Spammers:

It has come to my attention that my mailbox has been largely flooded with more letters from you than friends or people I know. I wish to air my displeasure to make sure you are aware of it so that you may stop giving me the illusion that I get a lot of mails every day. It strikes me as a great insult that you should continually sell me Viagra when my chances of suffering from erectile dysfunction are as big as you using your own product -- and getting the desired result. Please stop writing me those generous letters announcing an instant lottery win or promising a huge share on some deceased hermit's large fortune on the condition that I wire you my life's savings or share my bank account details. That is not a very subtle way to steal. Do not offer me a hot date and be like the annoying people who think that matchmaking is a great favor to friends who don't need or ask for it (It is outrageous enough that you could assume your definition of what is hot is the same as mine). You have to tell me first what decent person would allow himself to be marketed in the worst place next to a bar which is online. Also, since when did someone hot need to be pimped? No! No! No! I do not need that Cancun getaway. You should understand that I am not a beach person and have no desire to go to a place where I have nothing to do but get burned, which is another thing I would not be too thrilled about. Lastly, an e-mail subject like Do you remember me or Help Wanted will not pique my interest in any way, it will only pique me.

SO

PLEASE

GO

AWAY!


Yours sincerely,

G-i-r-l I-n-t-e-r-r-u-p-t-e-d

Blame It on the Mercury

I never believed in the Mercury retrograde.

But a series of recent events that took place within the period of this year's second (September 24 -October 15) of three retrogrades is making me think that there's some truth to it:

Emails never reaching some recipients in spite of correct address.

The fax/printer mysteriously acting up causing delay in faxing an important document.

My brother losing the ATM card for his business account briefly making his financial transactions go haywire.

The pin for my sister's new credit card taking too long to come in the mail when it should have two weeks ago.

Of course, we also can't rule out coincidence.

Still, I'm looking forward to October 16 if just for the placebo effect.

Marks and Spencer

Photo from: www.oxfam.org.uk

Marks and Spencer opened its first China store (and its largest in Asia) in Shanghai last October 2.

Three days later, a customer fell to his death from an escalator.

Bad feng shui or simply a freak accident?

I had plans to go back after my first visit last Saturday because I wanted to try the food at their cafe. Now I am fearful especially if the urgency to use their washroom arises.

Epi-funny

Months before the weeklong national holiday which was last week, I'd mentally committed myself to do nothing but get down to reading my latest magazine issues —something which I've never done. A lot of periodicals lie on my bedside table practically unread, and if at all, only by way of skimming. It is not something that I am happy about because I'd every intention of reading them which is why I got them in the first place. But when you have no time, and cannot find time to sit down and read, there's no choice but to let the reading materials pile up to the ceiling.

I subscribe to seven magazines: four monthlies and three weeklies. On top of that, there's also the occasional (or quite frequent) impulse-buys of other mags that have interesting covers and features. Below is an image of this week's/month's pile. (Yes, I read men's magazines, too!)



In anticipation of the long holiday, I envisioned long hours spent in the cafe, poring over pages after pages, finally knowing what the cover stories are all about. I confidently thought that I'd successfully finish all my readings for this month — at least.

The much-awaited week came and went. And so did my plan. All I can say was I did more than skimming, which means I was able to read more than I regularly do, which means if I normally get to read only the sidebar articles, or the really short sections, I'd managed to finish at least a few full articles this time. This is quite frustrating considering how save for the usual never-ending household drudgery, I didn't get any other thing done during the week.

I am beginning to think that I am not giving enough time to myself. It seems that I don't know how to step on the brake when I need to. I spend too much time doing things for others, taking care of others that there's so little left for myself. This does not mean I want to start being selfish and stop caring for the people around me. I just think there's the need for balance and that I shouldn't embrace all responsibilities as though I were the only person capable of them.

I'll most likely go crazy one day if I continue spending my life in this kind of "martyrdoom." It would be even crazier, a little scary, and nowhere near pitiful to be referred to as the girl who went cuckoo because she couldn't read all her magazines when she wanted to.

On my mind today

heartbreakVanityFairaromatherapysleep
fallseasonlaptoprepairbookstore
Starbuckstoiletcleaning
ChristmasshoppinglistDVDmarathonMarks&Spenceropeningbankerrands
peanutbuttermeaningoflifeandliving
grammarselfloathing
eyebrowtrimmingacne
peeptoebootsdepression

An Inconvenient Truth

Whenever I go on out-of-town trips, I try not to use anything from the mini bar (unless it's complimentary) in hotel rooms because everything costs ten times more than its regular price. If I ever take anything at all, I make sure to replace it right away by buying from the nearby stores.

On a recent trip to Hong Kong with my father, I found out one day that he opened a bottle of Evian water. Evian being the expensive water from the French Alps that it already is, was of course more exorbitantly priced in the hotel. So I took it upon myself to brave the rains that day to search for a one-liter Evian water to replace the one consumed.

It turned out that all the stores nearby sold only smaller or bigger bottles. No one-liters. So I had to walk 500 meters more to get to the next nearest supermarket to find it. Fortunately, I did!

I got back to our room, quickly transferred the hotel's price tag on the new bottle's neck and was pleased with myself.

My father then made a sudden comment on the irony of how we're willing to spend on overpriced clothing and overpriced meals, yet refused to pay for an overpriced bottled water. Same difference, he said. And I just had to agree.

On the day that we left, while reviewing our bill in the airport, I was to find out in the manner of one who's just been duped, that all of the 65HKD cost of that water was still charged to us! Why? I don't know. The housekeeping staff probably found out that the water cap had already been twisted open even if I'd made sure it was, or at least appeared, tightly sealed, and that the bottle was refilled to its original amount of fullness. Or maybe she tasted it. Or kept a record of the product's serial number. I really had no idea.

I didn't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for my wasted efforts. I just had visions of the housekeeping lady drowning herself smugly in that bottled water I paid for, laughing at yet another scrimpy hotel guest who ended up paying more than she had to for not knowing better.

By the way, EVIAN spelled backwards is NAIVE.

Go figure.

The Other

I do not know who, or what, lives upstairs right above us. In the first two of nearly three years that we've moved in our house, we've had to deal with daily sounds of drilling, hammering, screeching and all sorts of other noises that suggest house renovation or repair; causing us not a few distress. Since we worked at night and slept during the day during those times, we had to alternate between the two rooms in the house each day, choosing the one farther from the noise.

One time, my brother reached the end of his tether, complained to the building admin and asked them to look into it. They came back with the news that the culprit was from a unit on the 18th floor doing renovations which was weird because we live on the 10th floor. Unless the building owner was superstitious and thought the numbers 11 to 17 unlucky, thus deciding that 18 should be the floor next to 10, we're positive that the noise was coming from the 11th! But we made no further fuss about it since admin personnel assured that the perpetrator was already advised (warned) to keep the noise under control, which he/she/it actually did. So we enjoyed relative peace for a few months.

This year, the tormentor suffered a relapse and decided to go back to its first love. Not only that, it got bored with fixing the house and took on a new hobby: rearranging furniture, which shouldn't be so bad except that it's always done midnight onwards (how did it know that we now sleep at night?) at intermittent intervals. The poltergeist, which I've started to believe is what it is, would start pushing a chair, table or cabinet and wake us from sleep, or cause us insomnia for the rest of the night if we're just getting ready for bed. (Yes, they take place right above our bedroom!) For variety, there would also be occasional sudden loud thuds; like the pratfall of a heavy ass, or that of a watermelon dropped on the floor, each time causing our ceiling to threaten to fall on us. My dad once joked that we should be careful because our ceiling already has these cracks on it and they might just rain all over us one day. With what the one upstairs continues to do, I won't be surprised if my father's joke turned to a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I am again tempted to approach the admin to warn this poltergeist to stop its tricks that are far from funny. I'm just a little terrified of what this evil entity might do after the complaint. I don't want to see a dead cat on our doorstep or a warning letter written in blood ink on my mailbox after that, you know. So I'm thinking of buying a little more time, hoping this ghost will exorcise itself. The question is till when?

The first step

to losing weight is to break my daily Starbucks habit.

Come to think of it, it's not all that hard since I'm not really big on coffee itself (except that whenever I order, I usually go for the cold, flavored ones which overflow in calories). I go here for the quiet and cozy environment to read which is a bit ironic because the place can get very noisy too, especially during busy hours.

It is part of the Starbucks culture, as a barista once told me, to allow customers to occupy their tables and chairs and not order. Nobody will come lurking around to harass or embarrass you into ordering.

So I guess I can still hang out at this favorite place without putting my girth at a risk of growing bigger. Or as my cousin suggested, there's always tea as alternative.

The Devil Wears Prada...and Sunglasses

Anna Wintour — WTF?
by Joel Stein
http://time-blog.com/live/2008/09/anna_wintour_wtf.html

I knew she was the fashion lady with the sunglasses who apparently is a lot like the devil and enjoys Prada. That much I knew.

What I did not know is that she's absolutely crazy.

I've seen her at just about every event I've been to for three days and I offer this as evidence of her insanity:

Fact one: She wears sunglasses all the time. The lights during fashion shows are not that bright. Wearing sunglasses inside is just weird.

Fact two: As soon as a show ends, she runs as fast as she can for the door as if there were a giant delicious chocolate cake right outside and she was a person who would eat cake. I don't know if this is supposed to imply that she's super-important and another show is waiting to start until she gets there, or that she's super-important and can't stay and talk.

Fact three: She has bodyguards. I've interviewed a lot of celebrities and you know who has bodyguards? Nobody. Not Jessica Simpson, not George Clooney, not Leonardo DiCaprio.

I walked up to one of the bodyguards and asked him if she indeed has two bodyguards. "At least," he said. He was a pretty big guy and seemed amused by his stupid assignment, so I asked him if he could handle a client who needs bodyguarding a little more than Anna Wintour. "I think so," he said. "I have."

I asked everyone why Anna Wintour would need a bodyguard and someone mentioned that PETA threw paint at her once. So I asked Lisa Lange, senior vice-president of PETA if she was the reason Anna Wintour has a bodyguard. "I think she has them because she supports cruelty to animals and as a result has been the focus of protests, but I think she also has them because she's a wretched person who's made herself very unpopular in many circles."

I don't know about that. And for all I know she has a stalker and is claustrophic and has some weird condition where she's sensitive to light. I just know it all comes off as really weird.

Still, I like that she publishes Jeffrey Steingarten.

Veni Vidi Zara

I do not understand why I continue to get lured to the shopping trap that is Zara when oftentimes the quality of their items leaves a lot to be desired. I'd swear it off each time I spot yet another one of those recurring defects that usually come in the form of holes.

And then there are the shoes that are mostly pretty to look at but practically unwearable if you consider the calluses, blisters and pains that you have to endure while or after wearing them. I once made the mistake of wearing this pair of ankle boots (which scream pain the moment you step into them) to show a visiting friend around — meaning 90% of the time is spent walking — and ended up on the verge of seeing a podiatrist after weeks of painful feet.

I live near Times Square which is also where the nearest Zara branch is located. I go here at least once a week and it is unavoidable that I pass by the Zara store too. In spite of my repeated vows never to step foot in their store again, I'd always end up telling my sister, "We'll just have a look and try the clothes for fun. We're not buying because we're not going to fall for their trap anymore." And then we'd both come out an hour later with big and small bags.

I guess Zara's irresistible charm is its quick turnover of stocks that are trendy and quite affordable. By affordable, I mean not putting a huge dent on the wallets of average people like me. Sure there are also stuff that can be ridiculously expensive, like their bags and shoes, but whoever said you have to buy them on regular price? That's what the SALES are for. You wait for them patiently, and when they come, you patiently wait some more — for the third markdown because that's when the prices are their lowest. Of course there's the risk of having that shiny item you fancy not making it to the sale because someone else who doesn't care about money already snagged it. But really, who would buy a pair of sandals for 500 renminbi (around US$75)? At least not me and my small income.

Here's a confession: I unleash the "shoeholic" in me that I painfully repress for the most part of the year during sale periods and take home as many as six pairs in just one buy — sometimes for only the amount of one pair on regular price. The drawback is you have to wrestle your way through a huge crowd of frantic shoppers. The chance of getting an immaculate pair is also slim since most shoes have most likely been trampled on or tried by a million other feet. I don't really mind though because I'm cheap that way.

I admit I find it hard to cure my Zara addiction. But what about the holes and the shoes that torture the feet? I'm still not saying that the quality of their clothing has improved. It's more of an increased consciousness to inspect before checkout on my part. As for shoes, I now go for flats or sandals. You can hardly go wrong with them.

LINT, LINT GO AWAY

One of my major household peeves is lint, especially in clothing. Nothing is more pesky than finding most of my favorite clothes lint-infested. Worse is when a newly-purchased sweater pills after one wear. The lack of remedy is not much of a comfort. I've tried using lint rollers, lint sheets, and even shavers, all to no avail.

I read somewhere that friction is one reason why some clothes pill. Then there are claims of improper use of washing machine like loading too much clothes causing them to crowd on each other hence not rinsing properly; using powder instead of liquid detergent; or not cleaning the lint filter regularly: all causing lints. I've also heard that "infected" articles should be separated from the others because they're at risk of "contamination." Except for shifting to liquid detergent, I've already taken all the precautions. I've even resorted to handwashing but still, they didn't keep the lints at bay.

Would anyone have more effective solutions or preventive measures?

Weighing ScaRe

Seven pounds heavier + full panel pants + elephant-size thighs + disappearance of collarbone + frightfully huge appetite + lack of/little exercise = WEIGHT DISASTER

No one can help me but myself.

I am hopelessly helpless, and helplessly hopeless.

What They Meant

Not Regular Nor Diet

Stir Fried Crushed Garlic Written In a More Creative Way

Beefs Don't Have Forks, Or Porks for that Matter

In Short, Don't Order These

Lost in Translation

Last night, in the cab on my way home, the driver suddenly spoke to me in Shanghainese reacting to something said over the radio.

I cut him short and asked "what did you say" in Mandarin hoping he'd understand that I don't speak Shanghainese and shift to Mandarin.

But he seemed to take my question for incomprehension of what he said earlier and went on to talk animatedly in between laughs. I found myself responding in both laughter and affirmation; acting as though I understood and agreed with every word he said.

He could've said I'm going to kill you and I would've sat there nodding and laughing my head off.

My sister, who was with me, said I looked stupid.

So much for understatement.

Croc-ism

No offense to those who love Crocs — to each his own — but I was delighted when Tim Gunn had this to say about the shoe I found most hideous from the start:

It looks like a plastic hoof. How can you take that seriously? I know it's comfortable; I understand that. But if you want to dress to feel as though you never got out of bed, don't get out of bed.

I've never seen Project Runway. But I love Tim Gunn already.