Chloe: Critic Girl/Renaissance Woman

When the internal debate between the hippie in me and the diva in me started raging (coincidentally (?) at the same time I began to enter the pre-teen/teen-age world of knowing everything despite raging hormones indicating otherwise), I gladly justified shaving my legs because *I* liked the result and not because anyone on television or in society told me otherwise.

And I maintain this to this day. If I may quote India. Arie, “…sometimes I shave my legs, and sometimes I don’t.”

On the other hand, this other voice in me likes the result of a lot of things. I’ve recently decided that paying for a pedicure is much better (and perhaps even more frugal considering how long the job lasts and the pleasure I get from peeking at my well painted toes) and may even make a habit of it. As summer approaches, there are all sorts of waxing and tweezing concerns that warrant money.

And stress. How great is it to pay someone else to knead away the stress in my muscles that I didn’t get rid of any other way? Great.

So I find it easy to allow myself these indulgences, since I can justify them as being true to myself. But it all adds up. It is this truth that perhaps might be the most dangerous to balancing my other interests.

If it were as simple as reconciling a diva and a hippie, I could try to move towards an Alicia Silverstone or other celebrity vegan type. But I have goals that require saving my money and putting it towards future events and the elimination of student debt. So it isn’t just a hippie, but a frugalista. A frugalista with expensive tastes that I aspire to be.

So I scheduled the pedicure because I am in the midst of a 48 hour writing competition and darn it - I *deserve* to have my feet rubbed and painted. And there ain’t no waxing like a salon style waxing…so that will get scheduled too. I may have to skimp on the massage, beg the boyfriend for one and bank the cash.

Is that a fair compromise? My toes think so.

So, in browsing blogs I like, I discovered an interesting question that an interesting woman posed from an apparently interesting article:

American’s don’t know how to savor. They only know how to consume.

(this may have been a better stream of consciousness topic) I stand in a very uncomfortable position on this very issue. On the one hand, I wholeheartedly agree. On the other, I like to consume.

I’m constantly battling between wanting to go through the simple feng shui de-clutter everything and live very simply and then on the other hand, I want a Hogan bag and a Juicy smocked dress. And I’m not sure if I’m a sucker for the mass media and consumer society or if I really just like these nice things and also happen to really love reading about and experiencing the simple life.

I am very interested in the Slow Food Movement, for one. And I do my best to support the smaller gorgeous markets with gorgeous smaller market food items. I think that we should all be eating artisan breads and cheeses and local wine with local fruit and savor them in candlelight in stone cottages in big fields - you get the point.

And yet, I eat almost all of my meals (though they are home-cooked) sitting on the couch with a book open and something in the DVD player.

I’m working on the art of the single meal, eaten by candlelight (I do sometimes remember to light the triple wick as a mock fireplace) and savoring every bite and really focusing on eating what I’ve created with good quality ingredients and a fine glass of wine.

But then, the point of the getting the good ingredients is to “consume” from these smaller gourmet artisans and thereby support them. So the real question is, can I make the same argument for consuming haute couture?

So, I’m supposed to just write and not stop and write all the weird things that come to my head without stopping. And that’s sort of what I do anyway when I write, so I don’t know if it actually has the same effect as doing it in writing while sitting in a dirty subway or anything.

I’ve been sitting here all morning watching the second half of the fifth season of Sex and the City. It’s actually quite frustrating since the people who make the DVDs only put four episodes per DVD and so I don’t have any other episode to watch and I’ve now watched all of these twice. I should have been smarter and had more of them on hand. I think I’ll cry again when the season is over and I have no more Sex and the City to watch. I will start on a new show and I’m debating between Everwood (which I’ve seen a lot of) and The L Word (which I’ve seen one, but have rave reviews from lesbian and non-lesbian friends to back it up).

Yes, no cable. So I must watch old episodes and always be a bit behind. At least Sex and the City I’ve seen already and so I feel like I’m just revisiting an old friend. Although it’s just as frustrating, if not more, since I know how it all ends.

And now in my most recent bout with retail therapy, I am not sure whether or not I should take the plunge and buy a Juicy smock dress - in the cutest color called “Go” and a pair of 7 Jeans called “Dojo Rigid” which are very cute on the model on the Saks page. Of course, I live just a short train ride from the actual flagship Saks, and so it’s silly to pay 14 dollars in shipping to try on pants and send them back when I can just go to the store and save myself the 14 bucks. I’m just nervous that they won’t have the dress. But I guess there’s always the website.

And of course I want to go today, but I’m going to Barney’s with friends and while I could try on jeans with them, the glances when I go to spend three digits on denim on a student’s salary aren’t welcome. Even if they would do the same.

So, there, we go. Here is the most boring stream of consciousness I’ve ever written. I guess it’s different when I have something on my mind. And yes, I do count my shopping sagas to be something on my mind. I could go on and on about how nervous I am about finals, how frustrated I am with my boyfriend, or even more interestingly how the women on NPR (well Chicago Public Radio) were talking how the democratic system actutally has nothing to do with the advancement of women and may be detrimental in places like Afghanistan.

Actually, they made a very excellent point - the installation of democracy has to do with free market relations and a parliamentary election system (these are there words) and nothing to do with how a culture treats its women. And these women were the authors of two books which I am about to butcher - One was about Foucault and Islam and the other was about islamic identity and the feminist subject and I think they will make their way onto my reading list for the summer, although I do have a serious stack on my “To Read” table and some of them are quite hefty.

I’m actually getting a kick (can you say that about a book?) out of Hillary’s memoir because it brings up all of the things I want to do - travel around the world and work on women’s issues and advocate for children. Of course, my darling doesn’t have any interest in being the President of the United States, which is a shame and I may or may not be headed down that path myself (let’s be honest: there are no in front of the screen big stage politics in my future). So I have to find some way to work for Larry Lessig and forge new paths in the world of digital technology as well as advocate for women in Southeast Asia and South America.

And to get to South America, I’ve got to work on my Spanish, which I’ve been avoiding for no reason whatsoever.

And with that - ladies and gentlemen - I’m done. Not very creative. But a bit of my lame Saturday morning consciousness nonetheless….

In a fit of madness, I scoured eBay for my perfect tote. Ladies and Gentlemen, I found it. Well, I found two. One, a gorgeous Hogan bag and the other, a lovely Balenciaga. Oh yes, the holy grail would be mine.

And then, like any pauper-dressed-in-diva’s-sequins, I looked at the price. Woe be to me! Naturally, they were out of my league. There is still hope for the Balenciaga, but the reserve has not been met and I’m not sure how far I am willing to go to test it out. It would be a lot, but I’ve been quoted as being ready to pay a pretty penny for the bag of a lifetime.

And so, like any buying-obsessed-bunny, I began to lower my expectations. Or at least the commodity of the name brand and settled on bidding on some very lovely Le SportSac bags. And of course, I found several and of course, bid on them non-stop.

But the good news is that I found one very cute casual bag which does not take the place of my beloved but at least will not leave me without grocery money for the week.

I’ll put up a picture whenever I can get the link to work. For now, imagine rainbows dancing on a blue hobo. Whatever happened to Handy Smurf?