marni early mornin'
For a while now, I have been wanting to post [anything] on my blog. Today, I finally have a nice story to tell. Okay it's not you typical heartwarming and tearful story; it's just a story. A story to tell. And you know how I love to tell stories. In their most intricate and boring details. [See what I'm doing there? details.]
While the world had been busy celebrating women's day today, publishing posts, articles, links, quotes, status updates, tweets, pins, etc about, well, women... I chose to get as far away as possible from that wave of feminism that [must have] sprung up in the chests of women worldwide. Of course, not being a feminist is a choice. And I am aware that between being a feminist and fighting for a woman's [or all women's] rights is a big difference. Let us just say that I believe in justice. But that's not why I am writing this today.
Going to back to my initial sentence: While the world was busy today celebrating women's day; I chose to celebrate waking up at 6:30AM to spend some good money. No, not over poker.
March 8th, 2012, the Marni for H&M collection is launched. Now, as I had really been looking forward to shopping the Versace for H&M collection back in October or November [forgive my poor memory for I cannot recall;] I decided that I would do the impossible to be one of those first people to enter H&M today and to shop the morning away.
So the night before, I religiously studied the collection, focusing on that adorable sequined collar, thinking to myself; why would anyone want to buy this item? Of course I will find it! Then I made mental notes on what I would buy, calculated the tactics of my waking up in the morning, and of course prayed that I would actually wake up.
The next morning, I woke up energetic and warm [because funnily enough, on all other working days, I seem to wake up cold, so cold that I cannot get out of bed.] I showered, got dressed, left the house and was parking the car in no time. By 7:55AM, I was gloriously walking to the store. Now to tell you the truth, I was expecting the crowd waiting at the door to be much larger. But one must not be fooled by small crowds; they are the worst!
Fashionistas [more like fashion victims, which is, much to my dismay, exactly what I was,] were clustered in front of the store. What am I saying? They were glued to the glass. Glued. Inside, the vendors were dancing to the music. People were getting nervous. I was getting nervous. But I kept my cool; I kept my distance. I must have expected a better reaction than the one that took place. A small countdown began from inside the store, and suddenly, the doors opened.
Now I can leave you guessing on what happened. But I won't.
Remember the stampede? In The Lion King? Yes, the same one that killed Mufasa. Well that's what happened.
There was a stampede. People rushed inside [and I rushed inside with them], and by the time I got to the stand that had all the accessories, everything had been taken. I only wanted my sequined collar, and I couldn't find it. People were grabbing anything and everything they saw, as if somebody was holding a gun to their head, forcing them to get it over quickly. You could hear the manic clutter of the hangers and the humdrum in the background, and all I could think about was: where in the name of sequins is my Peter Pan collar?!
Then I realized that if I did not act swiftly, I would actually lose the chance to buy anything else. So I looked at the accessories table, saw sunglasses, grabbed them. Don't ask me why! I don't even need sunglasses! That, my dear readers, is what you can call, legitimately, peer pressure in its most naked form. So I grabbed the sunglasses, walked around the store, found the sandals I wanted, then decided that I would go plead my [sequined collar] case to the first salesperson, using the traditional "puppy eye" technique. And I went. But to no avail. Apparently the accessories were all sold out. I tried and I tried and I tried, but everybody wants to bring me down, they say I'm going crazy. [Oh how I love inserting random lyrics in my texts!].
Realizing that I did not get my collar plunged me in a deep, sad and victimized daze, where you could see me standing in the store, walking from corner to corner watchful and depressed. The people who had ravaged the store like animals now stood peacefully in corners of the store, studying their finds, keeping the good and throwing out the bad.
Meanwhile an aged lady came to the office outraged. It was 8:05AM, and there was nothing for her to choose from. She was angry, and [just like most old and well-off Lebanese women] she felt that she could dump her superiority and her anger on the poor, innocent, salesperson. She felt betrayed and treated unfairly when she came in, that she had missed out on the exclusivity of the collection for getting there five minutes after eight, but did not have a problem at all in ignoring [me and] the line at the cashier's to pay first [and nag while doing that]. By that time, I had found an adorable cotton T-shirt [that I had also made a mental note to buy] and was waiting for the woman to make her dramatic exit.
To end this on a sweet note, the experience was thrilling, and the collection was very pretty. Colors, and patterns and silk were just everywhere. Not to mention the wonderful packaging. I have to admit that I actually enjoyed my time. I will let my few pictures speak.
I know I'll get my collar. One day. So there are absobloominglutely no regrets.
Now I celebrated being a woman in a pretty pampering way. But one must acknowledge that life isn't collars and sequins to many others in the world. So I hope that no woman will ever get harmed or ill-treated or tortured ever again. I know that it is a far prayer, but it is one nonetheless.
I leave you with a few pictures of my purchases today. And for all the women out there who are reading this, may you find joy in the simplest of cheeses in life.
Tatarni for Sarette.
While the world had been busy celebrating women's day today, publishing posts, articles, links, quotes, status updates, tweets, pins, etc about, well, women... I chose to get as far away as possible from that wave of feminism that [must have] sprung up in the chests of women worldwide. Of course, not being a feminist is a choice. And I am aware that between being a feminist and fighting for a woman's [or all women's] rights is a big difference. Let us just say that I believe in justice. But that's not why I am writing this today.
Going to back to my initial sentence: While the world was busy today celebrating women's day; I chose to celebrate waking up at 6:30AM to spend some good money. No, not over poker.
March 8th, 2012, the Marni for H&M collection is launched. Now, as I had really been looking forward to shopping the Versace for H&M collection back in October or November [forgive my poor memory for I cannot recall;] I decided that I would do the impossible to be one of those first people to enter H&M today and to shop the morning away.
So the night before, I religiously studied the collection, focusing on that adorable sequined collar, thinking to myself; why would anyone want to buy this item? Of course I will find it! Then I made mental notes on what I would buy, calculated the tactics of my waking up in the morning, and of course prayed that I would actually wake up.
The next morning, I woke up energetic and warm [because funnily enough, on all other working days, I seem to wake up cold, so cold that I cannot get out of bed.] I showered, got dressed, left the house and was parking the car in no time. By 7:55AM, I was gloriously walking to the store. Now to tell you the truth, I was expecting the crowd waiting at the door to be much larger. But one must not be fooled by small crowds; they are the worst!
Fashionistas [more like fashion victims, which is, much to my dismay, exactly what I was,] were clustered in front of the store. What am I saying? They were glued to the glass. Glued. Inside, the vendors were dancing to the music. People were getting nervous. I was getting nervous. But I kept my cool; I kept my distance. I must have expected a better reaction than the one that took place. A small countdown began from inside the store, and suddenly, the doors opened.
Now I can leave you guessing on what happened. But I won't.
Remember the stampede? In The Lion King? Yes, the same one that killed Mufasa. Well that's what happened.
There was a stampede. People rushed inside [and I rushed inside with them], and by the time I got to the stand that had all the accessories, everything had been taken. I only wanted my sequined collar, and I couldn't find it. People were grabbing anything and everything they saw, as if somebody was holding a gun to their head, forcing them to get it over quickly. You could hear the manic clutter of the hangers and the humdrum in the background, and all I could think about was: where in the name of sequins is my Peter Pan collar?!
Then I realized that if I did not act swiftly, I would actually lose the chance to buy anything else. So I looked at the accessories table, saw sunglasses, grabbed them. Don't ask me why! I don't even need sunglasses! That, my dear readers, is what you can call, legitimately, peer pressure in its most naked form. So I grabbed the sunglasses, walked around the store, found the sandals I wanted, then decided that I would go plead my [sequined collar] case to the first salesperson, using the traditional "puppy eye" technique. And I went. But to no avail. Apparently the accessories were all sold out. I tried and I tried and I tried, but everybody wants to bring me down, they say I'm going crazy. [Oh how I love inserting random lyrics in my texts!].
Realizing that I did not get my collar plunged me in a deep, sad and victimized daze, where you could see me standing in the store, walking from corner to corner watchful and depressed. The people who had ravaged the store like animals now stood peacefully in corners of the store, studying their finds, keeping the good and throwing out the bad.
Meanwhile an aged lady came to the office outraged. It was 8:05AM, and there was nothing for her to choose from. She was angry, and [just like most old and well-off Lebanese women] she felt that she could dump her superiority and her anger on the poor, innocent, salesperson. She felt betrayed and treated unfairly when she came in, that she had missed out on the exclusivity of the collection for getting there five minutes after eight, but did not have a problem at all in ignoring [me and] the line at the cashier's to pay first [and nag while doing that]. By that time, I had found an adorable cotton T-shirt [that I had also made a mental note to buy] and was waiting for the woman to make her dramatic exit.
To end this on a sweet note, the experience was thrilling, and the collection was very pretty. Colors, and patterns and silk were just everywhere. Not to mention the wonderful packaging. I have to admit that I actually enjoyed my time. I will let my few pictures speak.
I know I'll get my collar. One day. So there are absobloominglutely no regrets.
Now I celebrated being a woman in a pretty pampering way. But one must acknowledge that life isn't collars and sequins to many others in the world. So I hope that no woman will ever get harmed or ill-treated or tortured ever again. I know that it is a far prayer, but it is one nonetheless.
I leave you with a few pictures of my purchases today. And for all the women out there who are reading this, may you find joy in the simplest of cheeses in life.
Tatarni for Sarette.
***
1 / the sandals!
2 / the tee
3 / the sunnies [from the men's collection apparently, but I'm keeping them anyway!]
4 / the sandals in my feet!
***
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