Hack Nordstrom Rack

Who doesn’t appreciate a good rack?!  I know whenever I see one I can’t help but stare.  But let’s get back to clothes.  Shopping at Nordstrom Rack is virtually a militant experience.  One must have a fool proof plan of attack and an unwavering commitment to dressing better than other people.  Below are my five tips to Hack Nordstrom Rack.

Prepare Mentally.  Right now The Sopranos theme song “Woke Up This Morning” is doing it for me.  There’s just something about gun violence that puts in in a head space to find that perfect Spring frock.

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Nordstrom Swimsuit + Tipsy Evangelist + Vegas

On Thursday the 17th a plane from Perth, AU, a plane from Austin, TX and a plane from Spokane, WA will make their way to Vegas carrying three blondes (I’m the only natural) and more clothes than a drag queen could wear over the course of a busy month.  That’s right folks, my twin and our triplet from another mother will be holding court in Vegas for four whole days.  I’m ready to hold back some hair , preach the gospel and talk my way into VIP parties (people can never find me on the list because Melissa is such and exotic name.)

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Hypochondria, Sequins, Banana Republic

So remember my attempt at running last week?  I have been in so much pain the last few days I cannot even tell you!  Through my research on Web MD it appears that my body is in such an atrophied state from lack of physical activity that even the slightest amount of exertion leaves me feeling like doodoo.  Or I have a tape worm.  It’s hard to say!  But enough about my hypochondria/imminent tape worm death let’s talk about my most recent self diagnosed health issue, oniomania, or compulsive buying disorder.  Also known as me sobbing over my last Visa statement.

I’ve been hitting the pavement hard this week searching for more black, grey, white and denim.  If you’re holding out for a post with colors, patterns or anything shiny this blog is not for you.  Also, sequins are not for day they are for Atlantic City.  Sorry.  I’m sick of seeing your shiny ass out on streets.  Your parents don’t love you.  I may have taken this too far.  But seriously you look like a disco ball.  This is not the remake of Saturday Night Fever, it’s an Applebee’s.  Okay, now I’m done.

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Thug Life & Canned Wine

They say you do what you know and I know how to sneak food and drinks into anything, anywhere!  (I blame my mom who used stick those microwave popcorn bags in her purse when we went to the movies.  Way to set a good example Janie!)  In school I was the sensei.  No matter how strict the teacher, no matter how prominently the “No Food Or Drinks” signs were displayed, I’d down a Ziplock bag of Cheeze-Its before the pledge with nary a chew to be seen.  I was like a snacking ventriloquist, like a snantriloquist!

While I’m proud of all the places I’ve snuck (I don’t care if “snuck” is not a word because “sneaked” sounds stupid) food and drinks into there is one case in particular that sticks out in my mind.  There was the time I brought an entire bottle of wine into Mama Mia.  Let me help you visualize this.  Me (gross!) belting out “Dancing Queen” between Dixie cups of Cab Franc with a singing voice somewhere between Roseanne Barr and the Janis character from friends.

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I Got Jumped

It was fourth grade, I had just gotten a very chic bob and I was wearing a yellow jumpsuit dotted with purple and pink daisies.  Hawt!!!  I remember going to school thinking I was literally wearing the coolest outfit of all time.  There’s just something about wearing a shirt connected to pants that makes me feel super sexy!  (I imagine guys hate this look about as much as peplums and leggings.)

Finding the right jumpsuit is no small feat.  As easy as J Lo makes it look most ladies will have to try on about 48 different styles before finding one that doesn’t make you look pregnant, 20 pounds overweight or like a giant baby wearing a onesie.  Lucky for you ladies I’ve done the leg work and found what I believe is the unicorn of jumpsuits at my beloved Kohls (yet another juniors section find!)

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Introducing The Tipsy Evangelist

I lept from bed today at the crack of 9:30am, blared 90’s rap (still not lovin police!) and tore a belt loop off my jeans trying to pull them up.  Nothing like starting your day with a little self loathing because you spent the weekend inhaling barbecue chicken wings like some ravenous pelican.

After a summer chock-full of Rosé and Champs I’ve finally rediscovered my love for the hard stuff, bold reds.  That’s right kids, don’t let my angelic face and fine spun stories fool you, I’m a cigar loving, Sriracha dousing, Cab chugging broad with a mouth that would make a sailor blush.  And I expect to be treated like a lady dammit!

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Let’s Get High & Wasted!

I am such a butter fingers, what I meant was let’s get high waisted.  Wait, what did you think?  Moi?!  How dare you!  You know very well I am an upstanding citizen and I do not condone recreational drug use or over indulging in the alter wine!  My mom reads this blog yo!  If you see her (she goes to Fred Meyer about 13 times a week) I expect an apology to her.  She is a saint and she brought me up better than that!!!!  Sorry I have to be so hard on you guys but no one messes with my mom.


I think the high-waisted silhouette is super feminine and flattering but I also think it allows for the occasional indulgence.  For instance let’s say you, I don’t know, just discovered Ritz Toasted Chips.  Maybe you start watching a Real Housewives marathon and three hours later the box is gone.  (I mean 8.1 ounces is really not that much so I don’t think this is such a far fetched story.)  So after all that salt a person, any person, probably someone you don’t know, has a craving for something sweet so they drive to the nearest gas station like an addict on their way to a fix and completely, by accident, take out one of those signs that says “Kids At Play”.

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Life Lessons With Sauvignon Blanc

First off I want to apologize for my random week and a half of missed posts.  What can I say, blogging is frickin hard yo!  I know for many of you this has been a difficult time as reading my posts are the highlight of your day.  I want to assure all of you that I take my work (art really) very seriously and I intend to keep up my end of the bargain to feed you baby birds every Tuesday and Thursday with the nuggets of wisdom you have come to know and love.  On a side note I want to thank everyone in advance for checking on me to make sure I hadn’t died in some horrible shopping mall escalator accident (or more likely that I wasn’t stooped over in a vineyard with a raging case of purple teeth.)  I haven’t actually received all your voice mails and texts as there is clearly something wrong with my phone but I can only imagine how worried you all were.

Today I have a confession.  For too long I have been dismissive of Sauvignon Blanc.  I’ve avoided it at tastings, balked at it’s mere presence on menus and opted for its slightly sweeter and heavier sister Pinot Grigio.  (I would know as I too have a slightly sweeter and heavier sister.  Hi Mikelle!)  Here’s how it went down.  I found myself in a predicament the other day when purchasing a cheese platter that came with a bottle of wine (otherwise known as dinner.)  My only options were a Merlot (If you’ve ever watched Sideways you understand how I feel about Merlot) or a Sauvignon Blanc.  I guess I’ll do the Sauvignon Blanc I said begrudgingly.

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Good Abs At The Gap

I will never forget the first pair of jeans I bought from Gap.  It was my sophomore year of High School and the “long & lean’s” were my cut (which is ironic because I was neither long nor lean.)  I had a kind of uniform that year.  I wore my long and leans stiletto boots and either a turtleneck, jean jacket or something cashmere I got on clearance.  I was 16 going on 25 and slightly delusional. To this day I can’t find a pair of jeans that fit quite like the long a leans circa 2001.

On a recent shopping trip I decided to give Gap the good old college try.  So I crashed a Sigma Chi/ Alpha Gamma Delta mixer, got “piss’d in the brook” and made my way to a mall.  A little thrown off by “piss’d in the brook??”  I was looking up synonyms for inebriated and I came across a list of Ben Franklin’s 200+ Synonyms for “drunk” as published in the Pennsylvania Gazette January 6, 1737.  Here are a few of my other favorites: Owes no Man a Farthing, Sir Richard has taken off his Considering Cap, Juicy, Smelt of an Onion, Wasted his Paunch.  Getting hosed sounded way more classy in the 1700’s!  Anyway, as I was saying I gave Gap a try and I found some great pieces to share with you.

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I don’t stand in front of a mirror every morning (or in my case afternoon) because I’m so in love with my face.  I do it because I’ve gotta take about eighty different products and smear them on my mug so that people will give me the time of day or respect me or at least know that I spend a considerable amount of time watching makeup tutorials on YouTube.  I don’t really think people will like me less (would that be possible??) without a carefully placed brow bone highlight but I know “packaging” is important and wine is no exception.

I’ve purchased plenty of wine because it was given 95 points by Wine Spectator or it was on sale or because some pretentious arse went on and on about it for so long that I bought it just so he would stop saying “unctuous”.  I’ve also bought wine because the bottle was pretty and I am just the sort of superficial person who likes to have a wine rack full of beautiful bottles.  Not surprisingly this strategy has led me to some disappointing purchases but I have also discovered some real gems.

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