Monthly Archives: June 2008

The Art of the Sample Sale

As a Splenda Stealer, designer labels are just not in the budget. If I’m wearing something with an H, LV, CC, Tiffany or David Yurman jewelery, etc., it’s was probably a present from someone. Not probably, it was. (I don’t currently have anything with CCs but if you are reading this please feel free to donate to the “Confessions Of A Splenda Stealer Fund.”

Call me silly, but before I worked in NYC I knew nothing about the sample sale. The only “super designer discount” event I ever want to was this weird warehouse of Saks Fifth Avenue down in Maryland during my senior year in college. After that experience, I sort of swore those sales off. In short, it was terrifying. Waiting on a line of antsy women who then literally sprint into the stale sales room with water-stained carpeting to snatch up as many deals as possible is not my idea of fun. Call me crazy, but part of the reason I like to shop is the experience, especially when buying luxury items. I would much rather sip my coffee and slowly peruse the racks or window displays than fight over a Longchamp bag with some overly tan woman in a Juicy velour sweatsuit who reeks of cigarettes.

But during my first few weeks working in Midtown and reading NYC blogs and such, I stumbled upon sites like TopButton.com that were all gung-ho about the sample sale. I was curious to see how these sales may be different from my traumatizing experience. The first one I went to was a Diane Von Furstenberg sale with my friend Nikki–and it was a eye-opening experience. Cramped quarters, racks of clothing with tiny aisles so that you have to become-one-with the clothes for people to pass you, a “dressing room” which was just a big room with mirrors and a guy counting down the 90 seconds you had to try on the 30 articles of clothing that you dragged in there. Sheer craziniess. I never saw so many strangers in their thongs, which brings me to sample sale rule #1: prepare to take your clothes off in front of strangers. Unless you are an exhibitionist, do not wear your super lacy or really old unmentionables to a sample sale because chances are, you will not be trying on clothes in a regular dressing room. Super time saver–wear thin layers that you can throw dresses or tops over and avoid the try-on line completely.

#2) It pays to be, how should we say, “un-petite.” I am a slender person, but I am not a size 2 which works incredibly to my advantage because when I got to this year’s Diane von Furstenberg sample sale, most of the women who were on the line (that literally stretched around the block) were all teeny, tiny Asian women. As annoying as the line was, and as hysterical as the inside of the sample space was, not only were all these women fighting over the Thumbelina sizes, but if I had to, I could just stampede over them to my part of the rack.

#3) Do your research. I already knew my size in DVF before I went, and I stuck to the styles of clothing, like the wrap dresses, that I know fit me really well. I actually did go out on a limb and bought two styles that I never tried on before, but luckily, they fit amazingly! No try on line=me flying over to the check-out line to buy five dresses that normally would have cost around $1,500 to $2,000 for only $825. I still had to fight back a seizure when I handed over my credit card, but two of the dresses were for my mom, which brings up rule #4: while it can be fun and exhilarating to share the sample sale experience, if you offer to shop for anyone, make sure they are the same size as you. Grab whatever you like, and then the two of you can decide who fits what best.

Without the time I waited on the line to get in, which was only about 15 min, I was in and out of the sample sale in half an hour, tops. I spent the next 20 minutes leisurely walking to work, swinging my bag of DVF dresses in a no-frills white shopping bag. I was distracted for the rest of the day.

One of the wrap dresses! How cute!! It has pirates on it.

UPDATE: Really?? Like, really?

There are many times in life when it pays to be a girl. Not that I condone such behavior, but sometimes playing the “damsel in distress” or “dumb blonde” works to our benefit, whether I like it or not. I’ve never been pulled over by a cop, and now that I don’t have a car the only ticket I could ever get would be open container or something ridiculous like that, but acting all weepy or flirty or dumb sometimes gets you out of sticky situations. I never really put on this act, but for many girls, it works.

There are a few other places where it may work as well:

–the Verizon or other cell phone center

–the place where you go for computer repairs

–probably others but I haven’t exactly mastered this skill, which is why I have no idea why I tried when I brought in my little baby nano to the Genius Bar in an Apple Store.

I was home for the weekend–MEMORIAL DAY!!–and my Dad felt bad for me because he and I relate to how much we love our iPods and understood that I would probably go nuts if I didn’t have one. I made an appointment, and away we went to Freehold Raceway Mall. I figured that since my iPod didn’t have any visible signs of water damage, or that I even dropped it, I thought maybe this was my time to shine. Maybe, I could finally master that “Oooh…it’s not working…what should I do?” and pull one over on the Genius Bar Man. I sort of hate myself a little for admitting that, but when it comes to saving my Nano baby, I would pull out all the stops.

Yeah, um, no. The guy was so not having it. He takes one prod at my Nano and looks at my blankly, “There is water damage. It will die.”

I can’t believe that I actually acted surprised and said, “Oh, yeah that makes sense. Some water got in my bag and I wasn’t sure if it reached my Nano.”

Why did I even bother to say that lie? Why did I feel obligated to play a game with Genius Bar man? Why didn’t I just say, “Yeah, so I dropped this in a puddle on 8th Ave. Is there any silver lining here?” Why play these games? Who knows.

It has now been two weeks…and it’s still alive and kicking. I am taking very good care of it, yet I don’t allow it in my bed anymore because I will never be able to shake that memory of the puddle.