Category Archives: shopping

Why You Should Go to Walgreen’s

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Younger Daughter is right. I need to stop being such a shopping grouch. So what if some companies seem determined to squeeze every last penny out of us they possibly can, even resorting to some bordering-on-the-edge-of deceptive packaging? Doesn’t bother me one bit. Because, as is the way with the world, karma sent some serendipitous bargains my way to balance the disappointment of getting shortchanged on age-attacking wrinkle cream. Here’s the story: I was in Walgreen’s a few days ago in yet another futile attempt to refill printer cartridges  (it never works and I always have to buy new ones and I strongly dislike having to pay close to $100 for something as distinctly non-fun as new printer cartridges). But while I was there, I literally ran into happened to see a shopping cart parked next to check-out that was full of tissue paper and gift bags. What first caught my eye were cute black-and-white prints with pops of bright pinks and greens. Perfect for all my friends’ birthday gifts I think about giving in my head. Then I found tissue paper with characters from one of 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable’s favorite movies — “Toy Story.”  And then I noticed the clearance sign on the cart that said “75 percent off.” Jackpot! And then when I was checking out, some of the gift bags were half-off of the sale price. I ended up with seven packages of printed tissue paper and 11 gift bags with coordinated tags and some also with their own coordinated tissue paper, all for about $12. I felt as if I were having my own “Extreme Couponing” moment. In a small way.

What You See …

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You know that one of my pet peeves is product packaging that lies to us. Packaging that delights in not being what it seems. Packaging that says, “We, the big corporate skin-care people, sit around a table and think of ways we can squeeze every single dime out of you, our clueless & inattentive customers. Because we think you basically are stupid.” Because that’s exactly how I felt when I opened up this jar of and realized that what I saw was not at all what I got. See, you think that when you buy this product, you’re getting a jar full. Wrong! There cleverly is a hidden smaller jar inside the outer jar — a maneuver that effectively cuts the amount you thought you were purchasing by … oh … say 15 or 20 percent? And I know, I know — the actual amount of the product is clearly and accurately marked on the packaging. But, really, who thinks, “Well, it says ‘1.7 ounces,’ but clearly this jar holds less so I won’t be surprised when I open it and find evidence of marketing trickery!”??? Nobody, that’s who. I’m sure there’s a survey somewhere that says this size jar is the size customers prefer. And then when filling that size  jar endangered the profit margin, some smart employee came up with this chicanery. I am shaking my head in disgust … but of course my skin stays smooth and resilient despite the frowning and wrinkling this stunt has caused. And that makes me remember I’m nearly out of  Regenerist Micro-Sculpting Cream and probably need to get some more. Sneaky, Oil of Olay — very sneaky.

Eats, Shoots and Tofu

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Picking the right spot for lunch is important. It can set the tone for the rest of your day, so you want to make sure you get it right. For example, if you’re in Huntsville, Alabama, and you want someplace quiet and sleek and soothing in a grownup sort of way, then go to Sun Cafe on Old Monrovia Road. This gem of a restaurant offers Asian dishes and an innovative sushi bar along with attentive service that is so good you’ll be in & out within your alloted lunch time without ever once feeling rushed — or abandoned. The food is flavorful and fresh, and you’ll return to your desk feeling reinvigorated. Unless, of course, you’re there at the same time as we were: a trio of grandmother, 7-months-pregnant Older Daughter and incumbent grandson 3-year-old Capt. Adorable. Older Daughter and I, for the most part, behaved ourselves. and the Captain did not misbehave, exactly. He just, in his usual “I-love-everybody-and-I’m-quite-sure-everybody-loves-me-too” 3-year-old way, talked to everybody he could see when standing up in our booth. And then, when socializing got too much and he needed a break, he flopped down on the cushion to take a quick nap before popping back up to continue his conversations. Luckily, everybody there smiled patiently and thought to themselves, “I would never allow MY children to behave like that out in public,” seemed equally as delighted to share their lunch hour with the Captain, so it all turned out okay. And I have to apologize for the lack of photos here. I’ve got a new camera — a Nikon P90S or something — that I’m still figuring out how to use. My centuries-old Kodak EasyShare was a clunker in comparison, and I’m unlearning all the quirky bad habits I had to develop to work around the Kodak’s limitations. It’s as if my new camera can actually read my thoughts and KNOW what I want to do before I actually do it. This means I have to think nice thoughts such as “Oh, the light is lovely there so I need to press the shutter NOW” instead of “Why won’t this #$%^& shutter press when I want it to?” It’s a challenge.

These Are Not Your Mother’s Maternity Clothes — But If They Are, Ask If You Can Borrow Them

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Have you seen maternity clothes lately? If you didn’t know these photos were taken in a baby/maternity boutique, would you have guessed? These are from Older Daughter’s current favorite shopping destination — Posh Mommy, in Madison, Ala. At  close to seven months pregnant with 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable’s younger brother, she  ends up here anytime she’s got a few spare minutes. Her favorite part of the store is the baby and children’s sections – more on that later — but she’ll still wander through the maternity aisles and point out her favorites. However, always the practical one, she won’t let me buy her one of these pretty dresses since, as she says, “I don’t go to an office anymore and I just wear yoga pants and t-shirts all the time so you should save your money.” But she looks beautiful and glowing in whatever she wears, and since she generally has better financial sense than I do, I keep nagging her to try something on until she gets irritated and goes to look at receiving blankets graciously give in and do what she wants.  Back to my original questions, though. Did you realize  maternity clothes now are practically indistinguishable from regular clothes? I first noticed this trend four years ago during our first round of maternity shopping, but this time it’s even more pronounced. And I think I know why: Maternity clothes have become much more stylishly mainstream in the past 30 years or so (combining runway details with hidden expanding-tummy tricks) and, at the same time, regular clothes have become much more maternity-like (with empire waists, soft fabrics and flowing lines). It’s as if the two met in the middle and created a love-child of chic and sexy yet comfortably wearable non-maternity maternity wear. And yoga pants.

Confession, Target and Paper Towels

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My four-woman book club was at my house the other night, and I’m so glad because it’s only when company comes that I look at our ratty salsa-stained napkins and think, “I really should buy new ones,” and then of course it’s just a baby step to buying a new tablecloth because you simply cannot put old napkins on a new tablecloth and naturally then you need new coasters because the old ones just will not do and before you know it you’re lugging two big bags out of Target and thinking, “But I just went in for some new napkins” — which, we all know, is Target’s Master Plan to Take Over the World. Or, at least, to make a dent in my bank account. I was practicing what to tell my husband (the on-the-defensive offense of “How can you ask me if I just bought these? I’ll have you know I take our household budget very seriously and I can’t believe you think I’d just go out and buy some new things. And furthermore …” was a possibility) but so far he hasn’t noticed, so I figure I’m safe. Or maybe I should just come out and tell him. Sort of like the other morning when I was at Older Daughter’s house with 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable while she and my son-in-law were out. I was puttering and didn’t notice that the Captain had gleefully unrolled a whole roll of paper towels in the hallway to “make a sled.” Yikes. I knew this contravened a Mommy rule and I wasn’t anxious to have another — another! — black mark on my grandmotherly babysitting record.  “Uh-oh,” I said, as unsuccessfully tried to re-roll, “what happened here?” With that innocent look of “What? Who? Me?” that’s perfected so early, the Captain shrugged and said with no irony whatsoever, “The paper towels got long, Kacky.” Brilliant! Genius! Our ticket to redemption! It wasn’t a lie because that’s exactly what happened. “Right!” I said. “That’s what we’ll tell Mommy when she asks what happened.” We practiced a couple of times and I thought all was well, until Mommy came home and the Captain forgot his lines at the crucial moment: “I’m sorry, Mommy. When Kacky wasn’t looking, I took the paper towels and rolled them out in the hall.” Ouch — a double whammy of confession and implication. But it wasn’t so bad, since both the Captain and I escaped with only a stern warning look. And of course we talked later about the importance of always telling Mommy and Daddy the truth — and leaving Kacky out of it.

But the Dryer is So Much Quicker (Or, How I Ruined Four New Placemats)

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Okay, Pier One. I guess next time I'll read and pay attention to those annoying little tags that say things such as "Dry flat. Do not put in dryer!"

My New Favorite Getaway Destination

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Isn’t this the prettiest and most relaxing bedroom ever? I stayed over at a friend’s recently after a particularly energetic book-club meeting (we kept toasting the fact that the hostess’s husband had not set himself on fire when the gas tank ruptured as he grilled our dinner). My friend graciously put me up for the night, and I promise it was like staying in the coziest bed-and-breakfast inn ever. I did not want to leave. I love her color scheme of white with blues, pinks and oranges — it was cool and summery and so clean and fresh. And can you get a close-up of the bedside tables? How cute is that? My friend — oh, let’s call her “Susan,” for no reason whatsoever — loves color and design and knows how to make it all come together. Plus, she’s an excellent shopper and always finds the bargains everybody else passes up. I’m definitely going to have to come up with another excuse to stay here again soon. When’s the next book-club gathering?

Nobody Checks Betty White’s ID, Either

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Okay, I realize that some days I’m more likely to look all of my almost-54 years than other days. I mean, we can’t be fabulous every single minute, can we? That would be boring. And exhausting. And, truthfully, I rarely achieve “fabulous”  anyway.  The nearest I get is “Not Too Bad if You Don’t Look Too Closely” and, honestly, I’m fine with that. However, when the cashier at Kroger decides to hit the “Age Verification Bypassed” button instead of going through the motions of asking to see my ID when I come through her line with a six-pack of Red Stripe, it makes me think  maybe I should put a bit more effort into my morning routine. Or have a morning routine, perhaps. Sadly, this Kroger incident merely capped off a week of subtle reminders, age-wise. For instance, a friend who also has a 54th birthday this summer gleefully pointed out that next summer we can celebrate by shopping with senior-citizen discounts at Belk. And my younger brother who I still picture in a Little League uniform is turning 50 this year. But the most telling of all is the morning when the headline on my daily fashion-advice email from a favorite style website  was “Get Betty White’s Sexy Look!” … and I clicked on it.

Cupcakes and T-shirts and Fireworks, Oh My!

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Is it wrong that some of the things I most look forward to when it comes to the Fourth of July are eating and wearing all things red, white and blue? I mean, fireworks are fun and cookouts are cool, but give me an artificially colored sugary treat and a patriotic T-shirt made halfway across the world and I’m happy. Seriously! I’m not being sarcastic here … well, maybe a little bit. But these incredibly yummy cupcakes were made with care and sold with joy at a small and local family bakery — the lemonade one especially is delicious with its tart and refreshing burst of lemony flavor. And the T-shirt, priced at $5.99, came from a discount store that has successfully brought style within reach of almost all budgets. So, in celebrating our national birthday, I’m also honoring our quintessential American values of capitalism, entrepreneurship and democratization. On the other hand, you could point out that I’m contributing to the growing problems of obesity and job loss. But here’s the thing: I’m free to do that. I’m free to shop for cupcakes anywhere I want to and eat as many as I feel I can. (Are all four too many? Please say “no.”)  I’m free to go anywhere I want on a T-shirt search and buy anything I can sneak into the house without my husband noticing that fits into my budget. Free to do pretty much what I want to do. Free. To. Do. What. I. Want. I don’t always make the best choices, but at least I’m free to make them. Thank you, Founding Fathers and Unheralded Founding Mothers. Happy Birthday!

And now I’m going to put on my T-shirt, eat a cupcake and drink more coffee because I’m not used to such deep thinking before lunch.

One-Stop Shopping …

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... for your Fourth of July celebration, because what's more convenient than being able to buy your fireworks and your liquour at the same time and in the same place? (Special thanks to favorite nephew Sam for help with the secret journalism photography.)