GIGI GOES GAGA

SIX MONTHS SANS SHOPPING

After years of resolving to overhaul my life every January 1st, I decided a while back to keep it as general as possible: be grateful and kind, try something new, don't be afraid to fail. Committing to a gym membership only resulted in my checking account seeing more action than I was by the time February rolled around, and I've given up giving up on chocolate. This year, however, I have one resolution -- and it's HUGE.

I will not shop for six months. It's only been six days since the year started and I'm still working out the rules, but so far I've decided that "no shopping" means the following.

What I cannot buy

• Clothes, shoes, lingerie, accessories
• Makeup, fragrance, and other beauty products (incl. hair care)
• Furniture, home accessories, art work
• Gadgets and tech (unless essential for work)
• Books and music
• Pretty things that are non-essential to living (for example: stationery, toys/apparel for my shih tzu Scout, Funko Pop, etc.)

What I can buy

• Food (groceries, restaurants)
• Experiences (for example: travel, visits to museums)
• Health-related items (including toothpaste and floss)
• Plants and gardening supplies - spring falls within the first half of the year and so I made this an exception
• Home cleaning supplies - I can be frugal, but never filthy
• Monthly grooming: hair cut and color, facial, manipedi, and massage appointments - this is part of my DNA, even mom was this way -- and heck, she was at the salon two or three times a week!
• Gifts (preferably belonging to any of the categories in my "can buy" list)

Look: I'm still working out the details. I'm the sort of gal who can easily try to rationalize how an exquisite pair of shoes could be classified under "experiences" -- but I know that would simply be defeating the point of this exercise. So what exactly is the point of this then? To prove to myself that there's very little that I really need and to save for what's more important. I've been asking myself lots of questions.

What if I run out of hair conditioner? I'll need to go through all my samples and use them ALL first before I can buy a bottle.

I love to read and listen to music -- why deprive myself of that? I won't; I'll just borrow books from the library and listen to Spotify.

I lost 15 lbs. and my pants are too loose now -- does this mean I'll look like a stupid boy in the '90s? No, I'll just get them altered (I've decided this is an approved expense).

Oh no, I'm going to lose Sephora VIB Rouge status! Still sad about this, actually, but just think of how much I will save!

For years I've been reading accounts of people who have given up all spending, but I simply can't adopt a Frontier House kind of lifestyle. What finally inspired me was this piece in the New York Times by the writer Ann Patchett, who gave up shopping for an entire year. I've decided to try it for the first half of the year, assess what I gained from the experience, and then keep going if I feel I want or need to. Although this may sound very superficial for some of you, my little endeavor will cause me to make significant changes in my daily life, perhaps even to my psyche.

For most of my life I saw myself as an Ugly Duckling who simply learned how to groom herself. I became interested in fashion and beauty because I saw their transformative powers early on. My dad once heard a fashion designer friend of his say that there was no such thing as an ugly woman, just a stupid one -- and he repeated it to me when I was still a preteen (to this day I don't know if it was merely a casual remark or if he was trying to tell me something). Once I learned how to make the most of my body type and features, I then discovered a desire to surround myself with the prettiest things I could afford. When I first moved out on my own and had very little disposable income, I owned exactly two sets of "grown-up" plates, cutlery, and glassware, plush towels, and soft cotton sheets. I had one cooking pan -- a Calphalon, which I purchased at Conran's Habitat at the Beverly Center. I'm hardly extravagant -- but I like things that are aesthetically pleasing, that smell nice and feel good. But as Astrud Gilberto once sang, "Tell me how long must I keep wanting things, needing things when I have so much?" This stops now.

Now it's time for me to make purchasing decisions that go way beyond what appeals to my senses. In the past six days I've purchased a cable that connects my work laptop to a monitor (for when I work at home), yellow sticky traps for gnats and flying insects (I brought my plants indoors for the winter), and takeout dinner from a nearby Japanese restaurant (a Friday tradition). Each time, before I pulled out my wallet, I asked myself carefully: do I need this? do I have any options that don't involve buying something? Satisfied with the answers -- there wasn't an extra one at work, gnats are gross, and relaxing date nights at home once weekly are hardly unreasonable -- I think I'm off to a good start.

Wish me luck. I'll report back in six months.

 

 

 

FLY LIKE SHEEP

The only thing I don't like about traveling is the traveling part itself. OK, I know that sounds strange so let me explain. See, I love visiting new places and observing how the locals live, but I just don't like any portion of the trip that involves an airport or an airplane.

I don't like having to put my liquid-based toiletries in little plastic bags or taking off my shoes before I walk through some security doorway only to get frisked by a woman in a uniform. I don't appreciate having to answer what I plan to do in town or what I did while I was away or especially whether or not I didn't just try to sneak in some longganiza in my suitcase. I don't want to worry about how much my bags weigh (and pay the hefty excess baggage charge in case I miscalculated) and especially what to do in case they get lost. And I don't care to deal with smelly feet or crying babies (with profuse apologies to all harassed parents out there) while I'm trying to get some sleep or quietly read my book.

I'm irritated by bad cabin service and for the life of me cannot figure out why the flight attendants on Japan Airlines and Cathay Pacific take much better care of their coach passengers than American (AA) does of their Business Class travelers. I'm especially perplexed as to why I'm sweating in seat 11D on the way to Manila and then am in arctic city while in the exact same seat on the exact same plane while returning home. I want to kill the passenger planted in the window seat in the same row who insists on opening the shade when it's supposed to be snooze time for all and doesn't care if the sharp ray of blinding white light that subsequently shoots through directly hits my pupils while I'm trying to get some shut-eye.

At the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila, the Travel Tax folks really need to automate their payment process already. And at the Los Angeles International Airport, the Immigration folks really need to be more polite to their international visitors instead of assuming each one is a criminal or a terrorist until proven otherwise.

I suppose what truly irritates me about this inevitable part of the travel process is how from the moment one enters the airport one already feels that there's a possibility of being dragged to an interrogation room if any step is performed incorrectly or if any action is judged as suspect. It's like we're all just part of this huge herd of sheep and if one of us isn't good enough then we need to be immediately separated from the rest.

And going back to that woman who frisks me while I'm standing in my bare feet -- why do I always feel like I have to suck in my gut for fear of being judged (and mocked) for having one bump too many on my body? And the worst part is that I ALWAYS do, I always suck it up and suck it in.

Baaahh.

BACK HOME FROM HOME

I just got back today. Jetlagged, sporting static-y hair and undereye circles resembling suede half-moon coin purses, and staring at a mile-high pile of stuff that needs to be sorted ASAP (to be laundered, given away, or stored). I can't believe this week-long trip just flew by.

But what a week it was! I'll post a more detailed account later (after I finally sync with the time zone) but it started off with lunch with John and G, and ended with après-dinner tea and cakes with my blogfather Torn (and Frayed, too). I also finally got to meet and chat with the fabulous Nikki, the hot-hot-hot chick who smokes like a chimney and can set a room on fire with her smouldering good looks and scorching personality .

In between there was a lot of the usual but some of the different, the latter which mattered more to me. An hour or two of shopping daily (Topshop!) and too many restaurants to choose from, but the highlight of my trip was reconnecting with friends long lost and sharing stories with those new and old.

I used to feel unmoored -- for years I felt like I was merely drifting from one port to another -- but now I find comfort knowing I can cast anchor in either place. It's like realizing you can have a few great loves, that you may find more than one soulmate in your lifetime. Having more than one doesn't diminish the worth of either; the important thing is knowing that you do belong, to someone or somewhere. Or if you're truly blessed, as I believe I am, to both.

GOING HOME

I've been trying to explain to my husband all day why I need to bring our two largest suitcases with me on my upcoming trip to Manila. "What do you plan on bringing with you anyway?" he demanded to know. "I thought you weren't telling people you were going home so you wouldn't have to bring so much stuff."

I remained silent, eyes peeking upwards and mouth tightly pursed and twisted to the left, as I am wont to do when I'm cluching for the right thing to say (or rather, when I'm praying NOT to say the wrong thing). How was I possibly going to explain to him that the issue is not what I'm bringing over there, but what I'm lugging back here with me? During my last visit I managed to hide from him the one dozen pairs of shoes I crammed into my cases (I had only one large and a small suitcase so I couldn't bring much of anything else -- stupid, stupid -- hence the current luggage war.); I pretended to be too exhausted from the trip to unpack, and only did so the next morning while he was already at work.

But my husband knows me only too well, and that's exactly why he's challenging me about my luggage selection; he normally doesn't care about such insignificant things. He understands only too well that if I have space to fill, I will fill it somehow. Of course, every time I return I bring him back lots and lots of goodies -- not only because I'm a good wife but so I can distract him from seeing the stuff I got for myself. By the way, he doesn't mind if I buy accessories, bags, or more stuff for the house -- but whenever he suspects another shoe has infiltrated our home he suddenly has serious issues.

These past few days I've been quite the shopping dervish. The truth is my family and friends are very considerate; they don't ask for me to bring back a lot of things -- just an item or two. But although I've always considered myself a shopping heavyweight I've just been humbled, defeated even. As my friends and I get older and move along this place called life, they continue to have more children -- who grow older and have new needs. But I have no kids and am clueless about things pertaining to newborns and toddlers (for instance, I only found out what a diaper genie was a year or so ago). Hence, behold my shopping achilles heel.

For instance you can drop me off at any Barnes & Noble or Borders bookstore and I'll find my way through the stacks easily -- blindfolded even. But I realized this weekend I'd never been in the children's department. So my quest to find one board book (I had no idea what that was, as you've probably guessed) took me at least a good hour. And tonight I was at Wal-Mart harrassing every motherly-looking employee or shopper to tell me what the hell an Aquadoodle pen was. I kept muttering as I walked zombie-like along the aisles: "Fuckin' aquadoodles, freakin' aquadoodles." I think I scared small children even. And just when I figured out what they were, they were out of it (and I thought Wal-Mart ruled the industry with their state-of-the-art replenishment system!).

So now I'm half-packed. I've got all the give-aways in one large suitcase and I've even put together my small makeup trunkcase (which took a good 90 minutes to select and edit from start to finish since I have to commit to all the colors and shades I bring with me for the next week and a half -- NOT so easy to do). Tomorrow I pack the other large (ha! I won) suitcase with my clothes, accessories, and shoes. Normally I'm a light packer (I swear it's true!) but I haven't been home in the month of August since I used to live there, so I haven't the slightest clue how to pack for the weather. Folks tell me it's rainy, warm, and humid. Like I said, I have no friggin' idea what to pack.

In the meantime, I'm open to suggestions. What do I bring? Where do I go? What's fun? What's new? My schedule is still far from full (I always just go with the flow), and I'd like to make sure I'm not home watching ASAP on a Sunday when I could be doing the same thing here. Hopefully, I'll even meet (or bump into) a few of you there too!