Monday, March 8, 2010

Arnie and Sly.

Yesterday I traipsed off to the mall endeavoring to spend up my Anthropologie gift card.  However, I didn't buy anything because they didn't have these spectacdicluous shoes in the store. 

 Everything thrifted except jeans:  NY&Co.  and Tank underneath:  Urban Outfitters.  See my keeton?

Resignedly, I poked through some other stores.  Now, as you may or may not know, I live in Columbus, Ohio.  This weekend was the weekend we all wait on with baited breath; The Arnold Classic.  For a week, our bars, hotels and streets are flooded with guys and gals who could crush our heads--but won't-- wearing TapouT t-shirts and Diesel jeans, inspiring reactions from subtle amusement to outright awe.  Arnold Schwartzenegger presides over this motley crew and he comes to our burg to judge the competitions.

Well, as I was considering big earrings vs. gargantuan earrings at Aldo, the girl behind the register says to the girl on the floor-- "Ohmigod, what?  What? I have to see this!"  The girl on the floor says, "He's out in the hall!  He's coming!"  I say, "What-- who?" The girl behind the register says to the long line of customers, "I'm sorry.  I have to do this."  She runs out of the store and I soon see why-- here comes Arnold Schwartzenegger and Sylvester Stallone, ringed by cops, enjoying ice cream cones.  It might be worth it to note here that both men eat ice cream using their lower lips as scoops.  The girl who ran out screams, "Arnold!  Arnold I love you!!!"  He looks over, smiles, waves and she dissolves into consonants and syllables, nothing more. "Guh-guh-bu-spluh."  A huge wave of people followed them obediently, as if they expected them to turn those ice creams into wine.  I couldn't help but feel some glee, myself, but I forgot my phone, and you know if you don't Tweet it, it doesn't count.  Ah well.

One thing I am making count is these tasty Eddie Bauer oxfords I thrifted the other day.  The only other things in the mall that people were a bigger fan of were Arnie and Sly.  These shoes are one of those magical things, besides pizza and money that appeals to all ages, races and creeds.  I was stopped by a Forever 21-shopping cougar, a black teenaged boy, the Pakistani guy who runs the news-stand, and a girl that looked like the heir to the Urban Outfitters fortune to ask me about them.  So I'll tell you.  $1.99.




Sal said...

And that's why you're a rock star.

alya said...

I seem to always be in F21 with ladies much too old to be shopping there, asking my opinion on how things look on them. Awkwaaaard.

I would have totally been that girl running out of the store. Without shame.

Elissa said...

Sal, you make a girl blush!

Alya, haha! I know! Hopefully there'll be a Forever 42 by the time we get to "cougar" age.