When a cheap haircut goes wrong

A few days ago J got a haircut that went horribly wrong. In an effort to save money -- and ignoring my requests to cut his hair myself (this is where I point out that I'm pretty good with scissors and a comb) -- he went to the nearest Hair Cuttery. Big mistake.

Now I'm not one of those girls who shuns all low-end haircut shops. Supercuts, Great Clips ... call me brave but I've tried all these firsthand out of sheer curiosity and found results to be surprisingly good, not bad. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't think an amazing hair cut -- for men or women -- needs to cost $50 to $100. I've had expensive cuts in this price range that have been worse than $20 ones and made me nauseous at having dropped bank on such a hot mess. (On the flip side when my $50 hair cut turned out fabulously there was no better feeling.) So my disclaimer is that I'm not a hair snob and not all Hair Cutterys suck. But the Hair Cuttery J walked into for a clip recently was downright ghetto, to put it mildly.

I sat near the entrance on a bench and watched him take his seat inside. From the outside everything looked fine. The shop seemed busier than usual, but nothing was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that they made him swipe his card before his haircut, something about them "closing the register soon". Totally suspect. Of course J is a consummate tipper, so naturally he left a 20% tip on his card before even getting the haircut (which kind of negates the whole idea of a tip since it's to reward service, right?) *Smacks face with hand when thinking about it*

Well, J went in looking like Shaggy and 20 minutes later came out looking like "Guile from Street Fighter":
(His words, not mine.) J looked like he wanted to kill someone with the 15-pound hardcover lawbook he'd been lugging around.

"I'm never, ever going back in there," he said through gritted teeth.

"Uh, you look like Krusty the Clown," I responded. What else was I supposed to say?

"The whole time the lady cutting my hair was mumbling things under her breath, like she had better things to do than cut my hair. And look -- SHE GAVE ME A '90s FADE!" he said, turning around and pointing at the bottom of his neck. "I look like Vanilla Ice!"

Try as I might to commiserate there was only one thing I could say: "You do!" I said, doubling over with laughter.

He turned back to face me and seeing how angry he was just made me laugh harder. I mean, if it was a tattoo or something, I'd probably be a bit more sympathetic. But it's hair, people -- it's not like it wasn't going to grow back. Plus, I was getting too much satisfaction from the fact that it appeared J had finally reached his breaking point here on the East Coast. I'd reached mine long ago (I believe it involved an incident with public transportation and me losing it on a subway platform). It was nice to finally be in good company.

The whole way home J was silent, white-knuckled and gripping the steering wheel, mumbling something about how it looked like "someone put a hexagonal hat on [his] head." Needless to say once we got home he spent 10 minutes in front of the bathroom mirror fuming at the atrocity he'd actually tipped for before he placed a hair of scissors in my hand and told me to fix it. Asap. So I fixed as much as I could and though the fade needs a little time to grow out he no longer looks like Krusty the Clown slash Guile slash like he's wearing a hexagon hat. In fact, it hardly looks like ever he got a bad haircut in the first place, thanks to his amazing and talented wife (ahem).

Next time he promises I can cut his hair, but I told him I'd only do it now if I get a 20% tip in advance. (What I didn't tell him was said tip would come in the form of watching a Real Housewives of OC marathon with me, but he'll find that out soon enough, my pretties!) All that matters is standing in the bathroom, the color back in his face, we shook on the deal.

Everybody Wang-Chung tonight

"My favorite color is magenta." -- Valley Girl, best '80s movie of all time

So good news -- I got offered a freelance writing gig! This is amahzing (per Rachel Zoe), and lit.rully couldn't come at a better time. Lately J and I have given new meaning to the words "frugal living." Quite embarrassing, some of the lengths we've gone to recently, but he made me promise to never mention nor blog about our little escapades, and so they shall go unnamed. Sometimes we don't know whether to laugh or cry in the throes of our absurdity. Thankfully we can still laugh.

I don't want to reveal who I'll be freelancing for yet, but it's a news site for stock market investors, which means I'll be writing financial news articles, profiling publicly-traded companies, the broader stock market, etc. It basically sounds exactly like what I was writing on at my last job, except this time I'll be able to do all my writing in my fluffy pink bathrobe at home. Score.

My contact there is a good friend, and he also made it sound like they might have a need for a freelance editor soon. Double score. It's nothing close to what I was making at the job I left, but it's more than what most publications pay nowadays for "latest headline" articles and, well, money is money, right?

So, pros to taking the job:

• Don't have to deal with annoying co-workers in an office. Oh there were a few gems I worked with at my last job, but most irritated the hell out of me...and the rest of my office. Back then I savored in the days when I could telecommute and not deal with the petty office drama.

• I can take the work as I want it and not for eight fixed hours per day (which I wouldn't do anyway, as financial news writing is not a priority right now).

• Will keep my portfolio updated with current clips.

• Did I mention the fuzzy pink bathrobe? Yeah, it's even more appealing when it's pouring/snowing outside and I get to watch everyone else trudge to the apartment shuttle on their way to work. Muwahaha.
  

Cons:

• I love following the stock market, and I love investing in stocks. Sometimes, though, writing about finance can get a little stale (especially if mutual funds are involved). At my last job I was given lots of artistic license to be as creative as I wanted in my writing, but I'm not sure if they'll like that at this new gig. Then again, we need money. Bad. I think I can throw my qualms out the window for some pocket change. At least it's still writing and I get a byline, and not, say, ghostwriting/marketing/PR, which is what my last position quickly turned into.

You heard it here first. Now go celebrate and Wang-Chung for me.

Confession

"F*ck me, I love Keats." - Daniel Cleaver

All right, I'm just going to come out and say it. I hate living on a budget. I know, I know, why the hell did I name my blog after such a personal abomination? Well, because for right now (in my late 20s, at least) I'm on one, and even more so after quitting my job.

Most of the time I completely forget I'm on a budget because I have and/or buy whatever I want. But there are other times -- like, um, Saturday morning when J and I sat down and looked over our spending for this last month -- when you realize you've been a little too breezy in some fiscal areas of your life. Take groceries. We usually spend about $250 to $300 a month in our combined Costco/Trader Joe's journeys. This month? So far we've spent over $400 ... and I'm already out of diet root beer. Ugh. We both balked when we realized this overall total, especially since we've been eating out constantly (Baja Fresh, you are ruining my life) and we spent another combined $100 at CVS and Rite Aid.

"What do we even buy at the drug store?" J asked, completely bewildered.

"Um, candy and beer," I responded.

"You mean to tell me we spent one hundred dollars on Swedish fish and Miller High Life?" asked J, even more surprised because we aren't big beer drinkers ... and he thought he was in some way cheating the system by buying one of the cheaper, albeit "champagne of", beers.

"Yup," I answered ... a faraway look of disbelief in my eyes.

So, after we scrutinized our recent finances, we've decided we need to clamp down on our spending ... as in, not spend at all (okay, I admit allotting $80 a month to our "Target needs" is still spending, but to me it's like not spending at all). This is how it's going to be, at least from now until we move in 8 months. After all, J's Bar fees are ridic and moving expenses will add up.

Being the masochist I am, I forced J to come shopping with me at the mall that very same day and used him as my financial barometer. The typical convo that ensued:

Me: "Ooooh this is cUUUUuuuute ...." (I hold up a dress/necklace/sweater/pair of shoes/peacock-feather headband in J's stolid face.)

J: "Yeah, but do you really need it? It's a short-sleeved dress and the temps are dropping, you wouldn't be able to wear it for another six months."

Me: "I know, but it's SO cute!..."

J: (Sighs). "Do what you want, but do you not want to be able to move back to California because you spent all our money on dresses and headbands and 'cute' pink doggie-poop-bag holders that you don't even need?"

(Twisted look of frustration pervades my face, and I angrily stuff said dress back into rack/fling said headband back onto shelf/leave said pink doggie-poop-bag holder next to cash register.)

Then I festered in self-pity and pouted in the car ride home until J -- again, my genius voice of reason -- says "You know, it's a trade-off. Would you rather be doing what you did before and shopping all the time, or working on your book and not spending much money?"

Sigh. How can I argue with this?

Looking at it like that, hell no. I would not want to do what I was doing before, no matter how much I got paid, and I am SO HAPPY that I instead get to do what satisfies and inspires me. It turns out true freedom is never free (as our budget so deftly points out).

"If you want to be an artist, you're going to have to live like one," J said.

Leave it to J to boil it down to an absolutely excellent, valid, puts-things-into-perspective point. He's right. I've never had to live the life of an artist, so I didn't know what to expect. And even though I loathe living on a budget, I'll do so because while it may seem that I'm irate now, I was even more exasperated before with my other career and all the money I had. Go figure.

Of course our limited spending also means limited spending on our "outings", like going to the movies and incessantly eating out at restaurants. But J had an excellent idea Sunday morning -- why don't we read to each other? "It's free," he pointed out. As if that was the major draw with his idea.

"Oh my god," I thought. "So Victorian, so romantic, so Bridget-Jones-and-Daniel-Cleaver-reading-Keats-in-their-rowboats." (Note: In real life J is, was and always has been Mark Darcy.) I was definitely in. I love reading and analyzing lit, and J is the perfect person to do it with. So that afternoon we took a Starbuck's gift card we had lying around, ordered a couple coffees and read Heart of Darkness to each other at a table near a window. Didn't cost a thing, and I loved every minute of it. We decided it's going to be "our thing", and I've already gotten out my old Hemingway short stories to read aloud next. I guess being on a budget right now isn't as bad as I originally thought?...

From a concerned reader, with love

A lovely email from a (ex!) reader I got this afternoon:

Dear Crystal,

Just FYI: Writers need to be able to accept criticism. If and when you are able to publish, be prepared for editors to second-guess a lot of what you wrote. You deleted my comment because I didn't agree with you. That's your right because it's your blog. But you'd better spend some of your time off from work growing a much thicker skin, or editors will eat you alive. You can't simply tune out (delete) the criticism/editing that doesn't agree with your point of view. You have to answer it -- by defending what you wrote and convincing the editors that it's right. Book publishing is nothing like print or online journalism. Trust me on this.

Deleting comments that get in the way of the accolade buzz generated by your equally snarky readers is lazy and also intellectually dishonest. By pretending that everyone agrees with you, you're stifling discussion and also avoiding defending your point of view.

Again, that's your right -- it's your blog. But allow me to extend a piece of unsolicited advice: Grow up. This isn't a seventh-grade newsletter. It's a blog that could potentially be read by millions of people. That's unlikely -- most blogs are seen by very few readers -- but it could happen. Thus you'd be promoting classism, sexism and veiled hate speech in the form of "humor."

Crystal, you are ridiculing people without the slightest clue of what's going on in their lives. Here's an example: Picture yourself in 20 years as struggling with a serious thyroid problem. You feel awful most of the time and you've packed on 40 extra pounds. Does that mean that you would no longer have any value as a human being? That your friends could laugh at you and your husband could dump you because you no longer are thin and adorable? Nope, I didn't think so.

Additionally, when you make fun of heavier women or women with facial hair or women who simply don't look like you think they should look, then you are participating in the system that has fifth-grade girls going on diets (for God's sake!) and wondering if they're pretty enough. If one day you are lucky enough to have a daughter, do you want her to consider bulimia and plastic surgery as a potential lifestyle because she's been told (explicitly or implicitly) that she's not thin enough or busty enough?

I have relatives who dress "like extras on 'Roseanne'." They dress that way because they are poor, dammit. Some of them are poor because they had to quit school young to help support the family. Some of them had children who are also poor because of the complex socioeconomic system in which they lived: Impoverished area (highest unemployment rate in the state), lousy teachers, no encouragement, no culture, and everything they saw around them pointed to, "Quit school at 16 and get a job at the glass factory because it's a steady paycheck." But the thing is, the glass factory closed some years back and there they were with spouses and kids of their own and rent that had to be paid. So they struggle to find other low-paying jobs just to keep food (not much of it) on the table. No one comes to them and says, "Hey, I know what: I'll put you through college and support your family while you study so that you can get a job as a writer and then quit it to write the Great American Novel and crank out a blog on the side."

Finally: I know two amazing women. One is a PhD and a university professor who has affected many lives both in the classroom and at conferences. Another is a minister at the United Church of Christ (our president's church, you may recall) who works tirelessly for social justice when she isn't counseling struggling parishioners or holding the hands of the dying. Both of these women might have at one time, as you put it, waited for the second coming of Lilith Fair. In other words, they're both gay. If you are one-tenth as intelligent, caring and flat-out wonderful as these women, then you'd be one lucky gal. Chances are you're not fit to shine their shoes -- yet you feel superior enough to criticize lesbians subtly, snarkily, with remarks about shoes and facial hair. (And believe me, if you saw the university professor, you'd want to date her. She's tall and gorgeous and she radiates a kind of intellectual aura that makes people want to follow her around and listen to everything she says.)

Perhaps you're thinking, "It's just satire. It's just humor. It was just a joke." Please remember: Words have power. The words you use can harm. It wasn't that long ago when people could tell coon jokes and Jew jokes and everyone laughed. Now it's not OK to do that, but somehow it's OK to make fun of the poor, the overweight and gay people.

I'm disappointed that you've bought into that kind of hatred. Perhaps one day you'll look back and feel embarrassed that those words ever made it onto your blog. I hope so. I also hope that day is soon.

Sincerely,

Donna Freedman
donna_freedman@hotmail.com

******

Let me clarify one thing: Rarely do I delete comments. I've received critical comments before, and I appreciated them, leaving them as is. I welcome criticism if it makes me better. But there's a difference between being critical of my writing and personally attacking me in a patronizing tone just because you don't agree with something you've read. You don't know me in the slightest, so yes, in that case your comments will be deleted.

In every humorous piece there will be those who are offended, who somehow fit a stereotype that is being mocked and feel insulted as a result. There are a long list of humorists who employ this tactic for comedy's sake. Ever heard of Dave Chappelle or Russell Peters? In fact, at that very same reading that night, Sedaris made myriad jokes about Muslim women from Afghanistan. In reference to the book Three Cups of Tea, he asked "Really, why do those women need diplomas? What are they going to do, wipe their asses with them?" He continued with the derogatory statements about Muslims and what it must be like to be an Afghan woman. Now I could have gotten offended, as my mother is a Muslim woman from Afghanistan and a university professor at that, but they were jokes and so I laughed along with the whole room. Though he perpetuated stereotypes, he did so for humor's sake, thus I did not suddenly peg him as a Muslim-hating man who was in someway prejudice against middle eastern women.

No, I don't hate "gays, the poor, the overweight or people with thyroid problems" - in fact, I have friends in all these categories. (Shocking, I know!) Ironically, my own husband has stories of growing up with a single mom on welfare that I think give new meaning to the word "poor". Being married to him and hearing about his experiences, I know all too well about the "complex socioeconomic system" in this country. But I'm sorry, if you're a woman and have a mustache, no matter how poor you are -- and my previously-poor husband agrees with this -- it's a detail that can be addressed with a pair of 50-cent tweezers from the dollar store.

A good writer can make light of situations and cull together subtle details that paint the humor and/or irony of a situation. That's all I attempted to do. And to make my job easier, I didn't even need to embellish the details from that night because they were exactly as observed. No, having a mustache does not automatically make you a lesbian nor does it make you poor, and I never wrote that. It simply makes you a woman with a mustache. (Hello Lauren Conrad.) Same with amphibious shoes. No, you're not a lesbian and you're not poor, but you're still wearing ridiculous (and I should also note expensive) footwear. And those "extras from Roseanne?" Probably not that poor as I saw many walk to their Lexus and Mercedes SUVs parked outside.

So please, lighten up, people. And if you're unable to, there are millions of other blogs you could read besides little ol' me. I promise, I won't be offended. ;)

A week feels like a year in blog years

My apologies for being missing in action during this last week. Actually, nix that. No apologies! I've been in the midst of a fabulous life change. I have been writing, though it's been on stories and not PF, and it feels good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm more coupon-obsessed than ever, and I'm not out charging my life away on my Nordstrom's credit card, but in this week of reevaluation of my life thus far, I am sick and tired of obsessing over money. I love my blog dearly (it's what got me through my second year of living in DC after I thought I'd have a nervous breakdown in the first), and I'll continue to be your faithful scribe on cheap fashion and intriguing finance stories that catch my eye, but as for money as a whole, I'm not going to let it rule my life anymore.

"But Crystal," you might point out, "it never seemed like money ruled your life that much in the first place. Wasn't it you, a PF blogger no less, who spent $400 on a Dooney handbag?" Yes, that was me. I realize this is a cardinal sin in PF-dom, but money (after you've put some aside, of course) is meant to be enjoyed. Wring all you can out of sales, coupons and clearances, make sure you have your bills paid off, some savings in place, and then...well, enjoy yourself. You want a steak for dinner? Eat it happily, and don't think about its cost. You earned it. Life is too short for constant, back-of-your-mind fretting. You'd be allowing your money to own you.

Which was the epiphany that hit me earlier this week, as I pummeled a punching bag in my kickboxing class. I'm always surprised at how clear my mind becomes and how easily the answers seem as I'm kickboxing, sweating to Britney's "Circus" remix blaring from speakers near the wall of windows. I got to thinking about how much I love coming to this class and how much weight I've lost in the last couple years (working a desk job after college took me from a sz. 4 up to a sz. 10, and now, I'm elated to report, back to a sz. 6 and dropping). Thing is though, the classes are expensive. Like, lots-of-money-upfront expensive. So what allows me to attend these (what I can even admit are) rip-off classes? My full-time job, of course. Which I might add I used to love, keywords being "used to." (That's another post to come.)

So why I have stayed? Well it funds my kickboxing habit, first off, but more than that it's a security thing. You'd be hard-pressed to find a person who doesn't like getting a steady paycheck every two weeks, especially if that person is married to a student and is covering all rent, food and other vital necessities solo until graduation. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to do this. What I'm not happy about is going to work everyday, dreading my commute in. And dreading sitting behind a desk for eight hours a day doing inane tasks, asking myself (sometimes even out loud in the fifth-floor bathroom), what I'm doing there. I've even found myself standing to the right on the metro escalator, fervently delaying the inevitable time spent in the office by a scant few minutes as others push past me on the left, eager to clock in.

For the directionless who simply just want a job, this situation would be perfect. I make more money than I probably should, work under lax deadlines, and can generally buy whatever I want. For someone with a deep love for something else, though, it's all excruciatingly suffocating. So naturally your next suggestion would be to follow that love, but what if it lies in something that could not (at least for the foreseeable future) pay bills properly?

When I was young, I wanted to be a writer. (Well, first I actually wanted to be a smurf, but that was before I realized that "What do you want to be when you grow up" was not the same as "What do you want to be for Halloween".) I began reading voraciously before most of my classmates, was always bought a steady stream of books by my parents, and someday imagined myself penning a classic and maybe even winning a Pulitzer. (Hey, no one said youth was delusion-free.) Then high school rolled around and I realized, at least from what I was told, that it was virtually impossible to make a living as a writer. And when I say writer, I mean novelist. So I cast off my novelist dreams as childish and unsustainable, and decided to follow my second passion: journalism. I figured I could parlay my love for researching and telling stories into short-form, and I would even get paid regularly to do it (I was -- and still am -- willing to work for a pittance). I majored in English and went on to grad school and then ... journalism as a field collapsed. I worked as an editor for a while at a Bay Area newspaper, lived through what working for conglomerate MediaNews was like, and ended up in DC, where I am now. If you had told me back in high school that I would be where I am now, I would have laughed and mumbled something about selling out.

But here I am. A sell out. Slave to the secure paycheck. And all I really want to do is pull that comfortable ripcord and write books. Which brings me back to my kickboxing class. As I pummeled the bag, I got angrier with every jab and kick. "Who are you?" I thought. Punch. "When did you decide that money was worth more than giving up on what you love?" Kick. "You say life is short all the time, so why do you play it so safe?" Punch, punch, kick. "You're talented and you've got potential. That talent won't take you anywhere, that potential won't ever be reached, as long as you're working for someone else." Roundhouse kick to the bag's head.

And after class, as I toweled the warm, dripping sweat from my face, I resolved to not let money rule my life anymore. To not let security or my job rule my time. It's mine, after all, and it can't be bought. Sure I love this kickboxing class, but I love my creative freedom more. There's no question which one I'd give up. No one ever got anywhere by playing it safe, and I'm tired of walking that beaten path.

"Coupon Queen" spends $10 on $150 worth of groceries

I'm speechless (and impressed):



Is this seriously possible? I know it takes a lot of research and hard work, but still. (P.S. Love the image of this tiny woman with a Brooklyn accent pushing a giant overflowing grocery cart almost as tall as her through the aisles of her local supermarket. Priceless.)

Fashionable Fridays: Miss Dior Cherie

I was perusing the latest issue of Elle Magazine two nights ago, getting more and more bummed with the turn of every page due to wanting all that I couldn't afford in the mag, when I came across this beautiful ad for Dior's new fragrance:


I immediately fell in love with the picture. Not only do I love the model's ensemble, but I love the way the picture captures the whimsically magical and romantic side of Paris -- you know, the idealized side of the City of Lights us Americans always imagine it to be like through movies like Amelie and Paris Je T'aime. I'm looking for the original print to frame, minus the Dior wording, but in the meantime I figured that with Paris on my mind, I'd find a way for us girls on a budget to also pull off the Miss Dior Cherie look.

Here's how to capture the look above without breaking the bank (click on pics for prices):

Miss Dior Cherie by BrunetteOnABudget featuring Hudson rings

Floating above Paris, optional. ;)

I want my Mtv

The men I spend my Sunday nights with.

Okay, maybe not my Mtv, but definitely my AMC, as I firmly believe I would die a slow, painful death without Mad Men (yes, I've actually pondered this scenario). For that matter, I also wouldn't be able to live without my TCM either, as it's my umbilical cord to all things classic film (feed me, Robert Osbourne!). Add to that HGTV, the "real estate porn channel" that allows me to live cathartically through strangers on House Hunters International as they navigate the lux terrain of Parisian apartments. And don't get me started on the Travel Channel and my daily, necessary (or what Love has dubbed "obsessive") dose of Anthony Bourdain. I'm a productive person, an astute multi-tasker, and yes, I do enjoy watching television -- sometimes more than I should. My point is that these are things ... shows ... I don't want to live without, people. They are the backbone of my stunningly vast pop culture knowledge and most are sadly not offered for free online.

Why am I presenting you with this panoply of favorite channels? Well, I'm going to be acting on a giant, exciting, I-can't-wait-for-it decision next month that will alter how much I'll need to save and how my budget will look strutting into this next year. "What is this life-altering decision?" you may ask with baited breath. I know, I feel your plight. I often amaze even myself with my impulsive decisions, but patience, my pretties. That's a post left best for mid-May. (And don't go buying me chic maternity clothes just yet, there is no pregnancy or baby involved.)

In the meantime, I've had to analyze my spending style and list what sorts of accoutrements I can cut out in my month-to-month living to conserve cash. In our household, our Comcast bill is one of the larger, more expendable bills we pay on a monthly basis, which brings me to the shows and channels that propel my weeks forward, like buoyant seaweed draped on the overactive rudder of my life. I like my seaweed and want it hanging off my rudder, thankyouverymuch.

Love and I debated the other night as to whether we could do without cable television. Left to his own wits, he'd never watch any of the shows I tune in to weekly (though since we've gotten married he has seen the light -- well, sort of -- with Mad Men, Grey's Anatomy, Anthony Bourdain and The Hills. Lucky, lucky man). In fact, Love isn't a big TV person at all. He's more of a DVD kind of a man, and thoroughly enjoys such cinematic masterpieces like Big Trouble in Little China and Reign of Fire. Yes, I know. I, on the other hand, enjoy dramas centered around faux Seattle doctors, foodie trips to Bangladesh by ex-drug addict chefs, and the nitty-gritty stories spun between bottled blondes and their beaus in La La Land, with a dollop of Kelly Cutrone on the side. This is all when I'm not watching TCM, naturally.

So how does a couple who is out to save money compromise? Do we cut the cable and watch what little is available online? Rent episodes on Netflix DVDs when they are released? (Boo.) Keep the cable and stop buying the small amount of action movie DVDs we actually purchase?

In cases as dire as this, we do what I want -- and naturally, that's what we did. Which means we're keeping the cable and finding other costs to cut so that I can tune in to Mad Men Season 3 this summer, Love at my side, as planned. I can't wait.

Gucci for less

If you love Gucci but can't afford the haute looks, maybe this re-creation will satisfy your designer appetite, compliments of DesertRose:

Gucci Style Budget by DesertRose on Polyvore.com

Loves it! Not sure if the dress is still available, but horizontal stripes are big this season -- in fact, I saw a dress very similar to this one recently at H&M for about $35. The yellow jacket, pumps and belt round out this outfit nicely at about $50 total, which isn't bad for accessories that can be paired with many other ensembles!

Vogue's cat is out of the bag

Not like you sign up for mag subscriptions in the hope that the free swag you get will actually be quality (right??), but if the driving factor in becoming a Vogue reader was the new purse you were promised, you may have found yourself a little...underwhelmed.

According to the New York Post, wannabe Anna Wintours hoping to score free glamour with a Vogue Magazine subscription need not apply. You see, in the Vogue ad, the Post says the bag appears to be red leather with a crocodile embossment and a clasp with over-the-shoulder straps.

"Instead what shows up in the mail, in a standard 8 in. by 10 in. polybag, is a red canvass bag with "pleather" handles about the size of a small gym bag. The bag also has "pleather" patches on the bottom corners and a zipper closure."

Classy!

What happens when the empty nest isn't so empty?

Here's a guest post from my friend, freelance writer Trisha Wagner. Enjoy!

Do you remember the first time you moved away from home? The feeling of excitement, independence and freedom? The joy and trepidation of finally striking out on your own with no parents looking over your shoulder or bossing you around? I know I remember those feelings well and nothing ever compares to moving into your first place. Now imagine fast forwarding five, ten or even fifteen years and having to face the fact that you can no longer make it on your own. While it has become somewhat common for some college grads to bounce back to the family homestead until they get “established” the current state of the economy is forcing grown men and women out of their homes and back to mom and dad's place.

With the tough economic times that we are facing, this situation is becoming a reality for many families. To say the least this arrangement can be stressful for both parties and it is important to set some ground rules to prevent both of you from falling back into your old roles. The following tips can help you get in and out of the family home with the least amount of disruption to all involved.

Set Rules Before Moving Home. This is important for both the parents and the adult child to establish what is expected of all parties. If the move home is a result of a financial hardship, agreeing on what will be expected of you will go a long way toward a peaceful co-existence. Due to the current state of the economy your parents may want to help you financially but find themselves unable due to their own financial situation. Both parties need to agree and feel comfortable discussing these financial responsibilities before you move home.

Be Respectful Of Privacy. Let's face it, you have grown accustomed to having your own space and so have your parents. Remember this is their home and just because they want to help you doesn't mean they will relish having another person (even their child) hanging on the sofa all day. Be respectful of their privacy and the daily “routines” that we all have.

Have A Plan. Remember moving back home with the folks should be a temporary arrangement to help you get back on your feet. This means if you are unemployed you should continue to look for work. If you are currently working, you should be extra mindful of your spending habits. You don't want to be a mooch, cost your parents more money or spend your paycheck on fabulous new shoes. Make the most out of this opportunity to get your finances in order by saving as much money as you can possibly afford. This may mean making sacrifices or adjusting your lifestyle but that is the reality of your life at the moment.

Learn From Your Mistakes. No one is perfect and we all make mistakes. Successful people however learn from those mistakes. There are many reasons why an adult child may be forced to move home. Some situations are out of your control (loss of employment or major medical issues). Other circumstances may have been preventable had you managed your finances better. Don't let past missteps stop you from moving forward toward your financial goals; establish where you went wrong and make the changes necessary to prevent the same mistakes from happening in the future.

While no one wants to move back home under the watchful eyes of their parents, certain situations may leave you with no other options. At a time when your pride might be hurting don't forget to be thankful and appreciative that you have parents and a home to fall back on-- not everyone is as fortunate.

Trisha Wagner is a freelance writer for DepositAccounts.com where you can compare rates of deposit accounts from dozens of banks in one place. Trisha writes regularly on the topics of personal finance and savings accounts.

Fashionable Fridays: Casual in the city

Today was like any other day: I woke up, decided to run with the smokey-eye look, threw an outfit together and spritzed myself with perfume on my way out the door. I guess I looked cuter than usual (is that even possible?) because my garb caught the attention of many passerbys (don't even pretend like you weren't checking me out, you trio of men in suits -- I saw you out of the corner of my dark sunglasses). And of course I also got compliments from friends throughout the day. It's funny, at least in my case: When I don't try that hard with my outfits, they always come out being the best. Anyway, here's a sample of what I wore:

Friday in DC by BrunetteOnABudget featuring GUESS? sandals

Nothing amazing, but it looked very polished and put together. What's pictured isn't exactly what I wore, as my tank was a darker gray and pleated all around the neckline, plus my shoes were slightly different (and much cheaper than these), but you get the point. All in all, my outfit cost about $30 total (yes, $30), minus the gold necklace, which was given to me as an early bday present from a friend at lunch today. My point? You can look fashionable and modern without spending tons of money.

A tip to remember is to not talk yourself into the wrong clothing just because it is cheap or is on sale -- buy it because it looks fabulous on you and will be able to be mixed and matched. Also be on the lookout of ways to accessorize the "blah" you already own. A drab gray tank will always be a drab gray tank unless you get creative (like above). Cinch it with a big belt in white or brown and play it up with the right jewelry, statement handbag and killer heels. All of a sudden your drab gray tank will become the base palette for your divine outfit, and not the focal point of an otherwise boring ensemble. But you already knew that, right? ;)

Is grad school worth it in This Economy?

It's not breaking news that (in general), if you get a higher education degree, you make more money. But a writer over at Slate decided to test this theory recently by taking her reporting to the masses of 20-somethings who are contemplating whether or not going to grad school is worth it in This Economy. What she found is that though more school is usually an unbeatable bet in the long term, it is not looking that way to a lot of students in the here and now. One respondent, in particular, wrote to her with:

"I have a B.S. in sociology, and its value bears a strong similarity to its initials."

Ouch. Then again, what do you expect when you major in sociology? (Kidding, kidding.) According to the article, it seems plenty of students appreciate school as a refuge from the dreaded job market but are wary of the immediate payoff.

Look at student loans, the opportunity cost of taking two (business) or four (law) or eight (medicine) years off of your working life, add in a horde of other people with the same qualifications as you who are competing for a handful of available jobs and it's easy to see just how much the job market in these professions looks like a bubble that is about to burst. [Actually, law school is three years.]

To be fair, the story does mention that economists across the board dispute these points. "When things recover, it's going to be the highly skilled who are still in greatest demand (as has been true for the last three decades)," David Autor of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology tells Slate. "So, for someone considering engineering, medicine, computer science, economics, law, biology, etc., I would say 'go.' ... The recession makes education look like a better deal than ever because the opportunity cost of investing in your human capital has not been this low in quite some time."

But even the traditional safe havens in the job market, like becoming a lawyer, aren't so safe anymore. (Love complains about legal layoffs across the U.S. on a weekly basis, and let me tell you people, from all the info he shows me, it's a scary, scary time to pursue a legal career.) According to the Slate reporter, she "also heard from law school graduates with $200,000 in debt who wonder what they were thinking as firms downsize and implode." MIT's David Autor response? "As for the law degree being underwater: Lawyers may get their shoes wet during the recession, but high school grads can't even see the surface they are so far down," he says.

So the question remains: Is higher education still worth it? I'm of the mind that education cannot hurt you. I have my Master's and although I'm sure I could have gotten as far as I am in my career now without the higher education I traversed through, my degree is an added perk on my resume and in the training that's gotten me to this point; therefore, I have no regrets. It may be harder to find a job now for someone with, say, an MBA (students on a budget can consider an MBA online to an affordable degree) or degree in a tech-related field, but once This Economy turns around, I do think the highly skilled/educated folk will be the first to cross the threshhold into the new job landscape.

Do any of you have your graduate degrees and wish (at this point) that you could just give them back? If you went on after college, did you think grad school was a waste of time? If you opted to not pursue a grad program, what was the biggest reason?

Eat for free at work

One of seven tips on how to eat for free at work, from Top Cultured:

Tip #2: Screw expiration dates on frozen foods.
It’s inevitable. People get busy. A flustered sales guy will misplace a Lean Cuisine Salisbury Steak dinner under an ice cube tray. The crunchy stoner from the mail room will leave a Kashi stir-fry dish in the company freezer and forget about it. That’s when the waiting game begins. I try to make the rounds every other day or so checking to see what frozen stock is about to hit the magic date - much the way a Napa Valley winemaker checks his oak barrels, waiting for them to mature. The day after something expires, I pounce. And don’t worry about getting sick; the date says
BEST if used by April 10, 2007. It’s not a warning. It’s a suggestion.

Hilarious. Click over to read all seven.

Hold your spending urge at bay

Put that Chloe bag down. Now. According to new research quoted by Prevention Magazine, holding an object for as little as 30 seconds (instead of just ogling it with your eyes) increases your likelihood of buying it.

Buys who grasped a potential purchase for that long were also more willing to spend more than those who held their items for 10 seconds. Apparently, the lead research author, James Wolf, says its because extended physical contact can confer a sense of ownership.

So that's why whenever I'm in Europe, those guys with the cardboard palettes covered in knockoff sunglasses are adamant about making me hold a pair...try them on. Same goes for stores here, where sales associates are overly eager about "starting a dressing room" for me, or opening up a jewelry case to let me try on a Burberry watch, even if I'm not planning on buying. It's enticement through contact and all of a sudden, it all makes sense. (Photo: Bettman/Corbis via Harvard University)

Come for cocktails, stay for deviled eggs

(picture courtesy of Dyna Moe)

Would you like a hot dog with your martini?

Let's face it: Happy hour is nothing without the deals on bar foods that pace the drinks served. Sure, we've all eagerly ordered that half-price plate of stale nachos or giant bowl of 10-cent wing goodness, but what if you could order exotic fare for cheap, like white polenta agnolotti in a green garlic sauce -- prepared by a world-renowned chef?

Well, your dreams of half-priced sautéed foie gras with sunchokes and watercress are now a full-fledged reality (thank you, economy!). Around the country, restaurant owners -- who are quickly losing money as restaurent goers dwindle -- are converting restaurants into glorified bars, which means top chefs are serving up bar snacks like grilled cheese sandwiches and hot dogs alongside cheaper exotic fare, according to The Wall Street Journal.

Why? The WSJ reports that while consumer spending at restaurants is falling precipitously, drink orders, particularly for cheaper drinks like beer, are barely dropping off (no surprise). For restaurants, it's now proving more cost-effective to serve lower-priced dishes that diners can munch on as they buy drinks.

According to the Journal, selling alcohol, and cocktails in particular, is typically a better business than selling restaurant food because the margins are higher. While ingredient costs may account for as much as 35% of the price of an entrée in a high-end restaurant, they typically only account for about 14% of the price of a cocktail or 25% of the price of a glass of wine. And since restaurants are already paying to run a kitchen, selling additional, easy-to-make food is simply an extra revenue stream (obvis).

So, just how succulent a feast can you afford the next time you saddle up to a bar with your friends (and thirst) in tow? If you swing by Alain Ducasse's Benoit bistro in New York, for example, you can now order dishes like "mini BB sliders" -- blood sausage on a bun with apple marmalade -- for $7. Not bad, especially since I do have a thing for apple marmalade. But even better? The cheapest dish on Ducasse's recently added bar menu is $1 deviled eggs. How very retro! The kitsch factor alone is worth the money.

Stores liquor you up to increase your spending

Free champagne at Nordstroms sounds simply divine, doesn't it? Purchasing $1,000 handbags, $300 designer scarves and obscenely priced cosmetics may not be what you're used to ... but would you feel differently after five glasses of champagne? Would your frugal tendencies be a little more uninhibited with all those wonderful little bubbles going straight to your head, clouding any budgetary judgement you've tried sticking to?

Stores like Nordstroms have been doing this for awhile (you need to be one of their "2nd level shoppers" or whatever it's called, yours truly is in the club), but it seems that offering alcohol to shoppers is a growing trend by retailers to decrease your rationality, increase your impulsivity and at least make you linger longer than normal.

In a Wall Street Journal article specifically dealing with male shoppers, "The recession is driving stores to search for anything that gives them even a small edge over rivals. And generally slower traffic gives sales staff more time to offer drinks and talk with shoppers."

According to one storeowner quoted in the story, "Offering alcohol puts men at ease. I wanted it to be like you're going to your best guy friend's house, a guy friend who has great style." Um, yeah, but your best guy friend isn't deceptively making their home more inviting so that you'll shell over $300 for a new pair of jeans. If so, then that's one expensive drink.

FYI, the cost of purchasing alcohol for stores is minimal, especially compared to other brand-building efforts like advertising, so I get it, it works. And I really can't complain when someone offers me a free cocktail, but it's just something to be mindful of if your spending is already out of control.

As Love said (after reading the WSJ article): "If I only had $200 for a pair of jeans, then I too could have a beer (wait a minute . . . )".

New unemployment data takes us back to the 80s

Still got your job? Lucky you.

The Bureau of Labor Statistics reported today that the economy lost 663,000 jobs in March, bringing the total amount of job losses to 5.1 million and the unemployment rate to 8.5 percent, the worst since 1983.

Yup, 1983, when I was but a wee one-year-old youngin', grooving to Culture Club's "Do You Really Want To Hurt Me" in a babyseat in my parent's yellow Volkswagon bug (we're from California).

The Labor department reported today that had part-time and discouraged workers been factored in, the unemployment rate would have been 15.6 percent in March, which would have been the highest on record since 1994. And move over France: Today's report also highlighted that the average work week in March dropped to 33.2 hours, a new record low.

Mark Zandi, chief economist at Moody's Economy.com, told the Associated Press: "It's an ugly report and April is going to be equally as bad." Time to brace for those April showers in more ways than one.

Oh and if you want to be Debbie Downer and drop a little unemployment trivia tidbit at your next cocktail party: Since the recession began in December 2007, two-thirds of the 5.1 million jobs in total that have been lost have occurred in the last five months.

You say "cheap shoes," I say lead the way

When I heard Christian Siriano was going to be designing a line for Payless (to debut in September), it gave me reason for pause. On the one hand, it's not like Christian Siriano is Roberto Cavalli or anything, so if anyone is going to design a Payless ShoeSource line, why not him of fierceness fame? On the other hand, though, when has Payless ever been synonymous with anything hip? In college I would peruse the aisles if I came across an errant location, and once in a while I would find tres chic shoes that garnered many compliments but that I would lie about through my teeth. "These?" I'd ask, posing with one ankle cocked inward as if I DIDN'T know they were totally hot. "I, um....can't remember where I bought them..."

Well you know what? I'm ok with my past Payless purchases now and I will lie about it no more. Maybe it's the fact that I have such a limited shopping budget currently (and college is a distant memory), maybe it's the hideous economy, or maybe it's because owning luxury goods these days is so gauche. Whatever the case, I pledge to trek guilt-free to Payless the next time I go shopping. If Target can be hip with their diffusion lines, than why can't Payless, with its Christian Siriano, Abaete, Alice + Olivia, and Lela Rose diffusion lines? Let's break the stigma here, people.

And with that, here are some super cute shoes that Payless currently has to offer:





Not bad, my friends. Not bad. (Especially that last Lela Rose pair.)

And if you're curious as to how Christian's line looks, here's a peek:

I'm in love with feathers

I really, really, really want this hat/dollop of loveliness for any cute coif. I'm not a big hat wearer, and though I own a few headbands, I never wear them for some inexplicable reason. A hat is such a statement, and this one is a statement I definitely want to make. It reminds me of one of those fancy, ridiculously priced little intricate French pastries, on display in chic bakery windows in Paris. Well, for lack of a better way to say this, I want a French pastry on my head. Now.

It's not eccentric, it's fashion!


A lovely accoutrement - by BrunetteOnABudget on Polyvore.com