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Monday, October 13, 2008

*economic futility.

L Sis likes to engage in a particular sort of torture that involves trying on all the clothes in her closet in a Goldilocks fashion to determine what is too big, what is too small, and what makes her look like a rock star. She describes it as "fun." To me, it sounds akin to having Sarah Palin read you a bedtime story.

But this beautifully weighty gray day inspired me to indulge in my own brand of self-flagellation: shopping for things I can't afford (for those not in the know, that would be everything). Here are just a few of the many, many things that are out of my reach.

Even though it's 72 degrees outside, it looks like a delicious 48 from my work window. I like to imagine that people are out there holding hands and breathing into scarves, even though they're probably slogging through the humidity in capri pants. There's a lot wrong there, and the humidity is only the half of it. If it were my preferred environment, though, I'd want one of these.



Isn't that cosy? It makes me want to spell words as though I were British. It also makes me want hot chocolate with a fat floating marshmallow.

Because the Woodside doesn't accommodate a chimney (just as well—odds of my burning down my house are HIGH even without one), I'd take one of these.



That glass shield isn't just modern and sleek; it'd also protect my hair, sleeves, and other personal items likely to go up in flames.

Other things the Woodside lacks? Portable seating for friends who linger in the kitchen, and over-the-table lighting. Solution? This papier-mâché stool/table. We featured it in the magazine months ago, but I've been in love ever since.



And this rubber chandelier has "K" written all over it: sarcastic and unusual.



My Aquafina bottle is staring at me forlornly, coated as it is in the many toxins that will probably kill me if I continue to reuse it at my current pace. So I could use one or both of these.



My current design aesthetic tends toward the dark and dire, but the only thing that trumps Gothic is blasphemous, so I might just be sold on the "Holy Water: tap into it" design.

Speaking of design, though, this is just too clever for words.



Mixing bowls and measuring cups all beautifully and efficiently stored. I think my anal-retentive side peed its pants a little. (It comes in all white, too, but puh-leeze.)

While my anal-retentive side is distracted, I'll let one of my other personalities do a happy dance for this chicken baker.



It's RIDICULOUS! Hence, I love it. Then again, it's a chicken. What's not to love?

I'm also in a turn-of-the-decade 1950s/'60s space (thanks, Mad Men!), so I fell for this vintage ice crusher, which would look so chic on my bar.



Then I remembered that the Woodside has no ice maker and that I rarely make cocktails because I'm too cheap. Oh hell, it's virtual shopping. I want it anway.

I fear I'd feel a little self-conscious toting this around, but I think adorableness and eco-consciousness win the day.



Now this little piggy is ready to go HOME.

4 comments:

kate says:
at: 3:50 PM said...

eep! those mixing bowls are like an adult version of those stacking plastic cup things that little kids try to put back in order . . . I love them!

So you too like to fill up your online shopping cart, dream a bit, then close out the window once reality sets in? It's like retail therapy without the bill.

John-Bryan Hopkins says:
at: 7:40 PM said...

It's the ice thing for me!!!

What's Next? says:
at: 11:14 PM said...

Nope ... as much as I value the opinion of the "life and times" you got a serious winner with those mixing bowls. We would make a FORTUNE importing them.

Southern Foodette says:
at: 12:08 PM said...

I seriously love the chicken! The stool is to die for but it would be crushed under the weight of my fat ass since it is paper mache.

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I am a work in progress. I perpetually need a hair cut. I'm totally devoted to my remarkable nieces and nephew. I am an elementary home cook and a magazine worker bee. (Please criticize my syntax and spelling in the comments.) I think my dog is hilarious. I like chicken and spicy things. I have difficulty being a grown-up. Left to my own devices, I will eat enormous amounts of cheese snacks of all kinds.

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