Triumph and Loss at the January Sales

We write this from the darkest, dampest place on earth: We haven't even seen the sun for three weeks, a situation both compounded by and resulting from the fact that we are so jetlagged that we wake up at two o'clock in the afternoon. And we go to sleep at four in the morning. This is after a day spent eating Kit Kats and potato chips. We are going to go through immigration on Tuesday and they are going to say, "You cannot be an American citizen; clearly you are a whale, and your home is the sea." Perhaps they will load us into a van and drop us into Long Island Sound, so we can be free to follow our aquatic dreams.

In all this damp darkness, there has been one ray of sunshine (metaphorical, obviously), and that is the sales. Several days ago, we discovered what we can only believe to be a fantastical error: $32 Korres shampoo-shower gel sets for $8 at Boots. Why Boots carries Korres, we don't know. Why their entire Korres stock was 75% off, we don't know. Maybe, we reasoned, British people didn't like Korres the way we don't like Jerry Lewis but the French can't get enough of him. "You don't understand," we said to our Scottish Friend, who is, in any case, male, and all, "Let's find some haggis and neeps," attempting to again explain why "turnips" are pronounced "neeps" while all we cared about was filling our arms with all the Korres we could carry.

We only actually bought one vanilla-cinnamon shower gel. Surely there would be even more delightful options, at Boots throughout the country. We were sure that the remainder of our trip to this damp kingdom would be spent skipping from Boots to Boots, buying up Korres like discounted stock, possibly reselling it on eBay. We would have gifts to give friends who aren't good-enough friends to deserve thoughtful, non-shower gel presents for years to come. And so we went to every Boots between Dundee, Scotland, and London, England, to the eternal dismay of the Scottish friend, who was all, "Haven't we already been to Boots?" and "Why do you need shower gel that costs £3?" to which we would of course reply, "Because it usually costs $20, that's why," even though we have never, in our lives, purchased Korres before, because it smells nice, but it's not all that. But we wanted to hunt and gather it. Sort of like the way a vampire gets a taste for blood. Except with vanilla-cinnamon shower gel. Searching every Boots for Korres was sort of like looking for gold bars hidden behind the men's urinals at every McDonald's between Boston and Philadelphia, minus the fear of (a) hepatitis or (b) coronary disease. And equally successful.

We bring you the two on-sale Korres products we could find online (more can be found here.) However, 25% is not 75%, and certainly not sufficient for little dances of joy, despite whale-like fitness level, in the store, in front of the display (see display, if not dance, at top.)

We are going to go to Boots tomorrow, too.


1: Korres Sunflower Extract and Vitamin F Shampoo. Doesn't Vitamin F sound totally made up? Was $17, now $13.60


2: Korres Natural Body Milk at CB2, which is apparently a furniture store that also sells "body milk," which itself sounds weird out of context. We will just add here that CB2 makes our favorite under-$1000 couch.

Friday's Perfect Thing

We have a roommate who's so deaf, dumb and blind about the worlds of fashion, art and enterainment that he looked at a picture of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt yesterday and said, "Didn't they break up?" And while we were busy raising our hand to cover our open, gasping mouth, he continued. "Oh, wait," he says. "That's the other one." It boggles the mind.

And still, and still, this person knew enough to lean over halfway through Match Point yesterday and say, "That's that Mulberry bag you want, isn't it?" And yes, we said. It is. Because it is beautiful, and because it is our hearts.

The Roxanne, $1195

What Works for Them

Seeing as how our skin's lately been ... the word we want here is the dictionary definition of "sallow." And sallow it shall remain for approximately the next six months, when the sun finally returns to warm the earth once more. Thus, we have been more than a little obsessed lately with all things skincare: Could this product, for only $199, truly brighten our skin by 150%? And what instrument, praytell, measures the luminosity of the skin? A light meter? Tss. Instead of believing one line of their bullshit, we decided to stop people with nice skin on the street and ask them their skincare routines. This actually turned out to be much less scary \\ humiliating than we thought it would be, chiefly because it turns out that people like hearing nice things about their skin. So from a woman named Nicole M., who you will have to trust has really excellent skin because although she would talk to us, she was a little camera-shy.

CLEANSER: "I know it's so cheesy that they do the QVC deal but I love my Philosophy products, especially Purity. It's so gentle that it never stings when I get it in my eyes." Philosophy's Purity Made Simple, $20 for 8 oz.


TONER: "I would only say that you have to be really careful traveling with this, because the flip top's really flimsy and every time I fly I open my bags and find little rosewater puddles everywhere. And it's $12.50 down the drain." (Actually $13.) Kiehl's Rosewater Freshener-Toner, $13


MOISTURIZER: "I really do like Kiehl's, and this keeps my skin moisturized without breaking out." And may we add, we are sort of soothed by their scientific mumbo-jumbo, sort of an adult's version of a nursery rhyme: "Found aside the Mediterranean Sea, this unusual flower is known to boost cell renewal for a supple skin effect. Our rejuvenating preparation, made with Padina Pavonica, derived from the protective coating of sea algae, improves elasticity and resilience. This hydrating formula, combined with Vitamin C Glucoside, helps skin reveal its natural radiance." Though on second thought, what the fuck could that possibly mean? Kiehl's Cryste Marine Firming Cream, $45


LINE PREVENTER: "I got talked into buying this at Macy's and now I'm terrified that if I stop using it I'll turn into Cruella de Vil or something." Prescriptives Super Line Preventer, $47.50


"SKIN BRIGHTENER": "I really don't know what it does but it's supposed to work wonders." Seriously, people, we'll buy whatever falls off the donkey cart, won't we? Er, we're sure this particular product does, indeed, perform miracles. Sigh. In any case, skin brighteners make us think of that scene from Nip / Tuck where Matt's psycho Nazi girlfriend smeared industrial-strength spooge all over her and got all those chemical burns. This was on the cover of last month's Elle UK magazine, by the way, as their best-ever buy or something. But bleck packaging, no? Olay Complete Care Multi-Radiance Daily Illuminating UV Fluid, $14.99

Desert Island Denim

We were recently reading a well-respected international fashion magazine when we came to an article about cleaning out your closet—not in the Eminem sense, but in the fashion feng shui sense. And this, we thought was a good idea, the best opportunity yet to see that miserable black peacoat from the Gap (warm but depressing) brighten someone else's day. Someone who does not feel like a giant pudding-marmalade when she wears it, preferably. But then we came to this startling sentence, er, which we cannot quote since we were forced to bin the magazine because of startling handbag weight problems, but basically summed up as: More than five pairs of jeans in your closet is unreasonable.

Now, so many things are unreasonable: the conversion of food into fat, for instance. Nicole Richie, authoress. But limits to jeans? Seriously. It's like communism. It denies the goodwill of the marketplace. And it begs the question: But what would we wear on Saturday and Sunday?

However, every once in a while, we like dealing with unnatural, ungodly constraints, like flying coach next to a man who keeps rubbing his nose with some bizarre Japanese stick-form nose-remedy. And these, therefore, are our five denim-y must-haves. Er, not that one must have anything. You know what we mean. Ooh, we should totally do reindeer-sweater must-haves. Ha!

The Trendy Jean: Above, Topshop's gray skinny Baxter jeans. Officially Kate Moss seal-of-approval'd.


The Normal, Nice Jean: We tried so hard to say something about the whole Kate Moss deal, beginning with the fact that fashion companies who pulled her ads after the whole coke thing are big fucking hypocrites, but then we also do think that she probably makes little girls want to do coke. Confusing. Anyway, Gap jeans are not confusing. These are the kind of jeans (a) you wear on weekends when you will not see anyone you are particularly in need of impressing, (b) will never be as cool as jeans that cost like four times as much and (c) are perfectly adequate if you are not an annoying denim snob. Gap's Original Long & Lean in crosshatch rinse, $58


The Hideous Jean: Can anyone believe that these were once the Gap's most popular denim? UGH BARF. Gap's Original Reverse Fit, $39.50. Cheaper, non-hideous jeans are available at Wal-Marts nationwide. Really. Even the probably 12-year-old model looks like a giant meringue.


The Trendy Jean: Which brings us to ... really, it was just a toss-up here: Which trendy denim do we go with for our denim snob-entry? EdunRoganEarnestSewnTAGPaperDenimJamesPaigeJoeRockandRepublic etc. Argh. Seriously, it's like sixth grade all over again. First, True Religion is out because of that nightmarish lump song and because we hate the way the back pockets end immediately north of your knees. So we are just going to go with the ones that fit us best, noting that this recommendation is only applicable to readers who are exactly our size and weight, or in other words, molded by chocolate and Wheat Thins. Ergo: 7 for all Mankind, even if they are past their hipness-prime. The New York Dark Jean, $143


The Moron Jean: However, if you purchase 7's $700 limited-edition Havana Flowers Jeans, you are either (a) an idiot or (b) Paris Hilton. Ooh, what are we saying? Paris probably got them for free. Tss. It's so interesting how we can be all judgmental about $700 jeans, but not $143 jeans. Tsssss. For "interesting" please read "virulently hypocritical."


The Skinny Jean: For wearing the boot outside or the heels below. We've actually completely come around on the boot-outside thing: Pudding-y calves, forced into big, fluffy boots, look less pudding-y if the surrounding boot is sufficiently fluffy. We have conducted impartial tests on this, and stand by the research. Ava Skinny stretch jeans from Citizens, $146

The Vintage Jean: They must be Levi's. We have a friend who won't buy vintage. In fact, she won't even check out library books. We are not making this up. So we'll have vintage jeans, and she won't. And she'll have therapy, and we won't. Er, yet. We all have our favorite places to buy vintage, but ours (aware of grammatical pains the use of royal "we" is inflicting on this sentence) prefer, always, Incogneeto, in beautiful Somerville, New Jersey, and with a large online inventory.

The New Uggs: Love From Australia

Something we did not know: "Ugg" is a generic word, sort of the reverse of "Xerox" or "Kleenex." So it's sort of like if there were some American copier company called "Copier" and then you read about how another copier company, called Xerox, was a great copier company. And you're like, but isn't Copier the brand term? Er, this would assume that people from Australia were unfamilar with copier machines. Er, maybe Frappucinos. Er, maybe not. Maybe ... what is something we have only in America? Ding-Dongs, perhaps.

If you can make your way through the thicket of that analogy, we salute you, and we bring you Love From Australia, the non-Ugg uggs from—predictably—Australia. (We do not know where the Love comes from, precisely.) "Ugg," we have also learned, is, indeed, short for ugg-ly. We must sound so ignorant to our readers in Australia. Maybe it's sort of like explaining funnel cake to, er, anyone outside of Pennsylvania.


Anyway! These must be the new Uggs, because Sienna Miller is wearing them, and Sienna could never be wrong. Except about men and things, and the occasional cape, and that terrible wig some Sienna-hating producer made her wear in Casanova. It's the $300 LFA Nomad, available in black, chocolate, chestnut, sand, and emerald. And don't forget, they need to be shipped from, for real, Australia, so add $20 for shipping and "please allow 7-21 days for delivery from availability date."


If you're not picky, the Cupid "sheepskin shortie" with the little bow-tie is half off at $100.

An Interview With Project Runway's Daniel Franco!

Our constant, constant readers know that we are obsessed with Project Runway, and even our less constant readers know we adore Daniel Franco, who was cruelly booted off in Episode 4 after that bizarre lingerie challenge that basically ensured that good work would give you nothing but a much, much better chance at being auf wiedersehen-ed. (Recap: All the designers were asked to submit lingerie sketches; the favorite four were then team leaders. And as anyone who's ever watched a reality show before would know immediately, the team leader of the losing team is totally packing it in, rather than any of the sniping, snipping minions. And so it was.)

We were so distressed at Daniel F.'s dismissal that we immediately e-mailed him the following questions. We did not expect to hear back, and we were delighted when we did. Can you believe it? We really can't. Hurrah for Daniel!

bunnyshop: Why are you so adorable?

That is actually a question we asked, and Daniel answered. To read it, you must go to our new site. The toughness begins!

Stars and Infinite Darkness, Day 5: The Big Finish

You must, must, must, must believe that Monday is going to be our favorite day on bunnyshop ever, of all time, ever. Seriously. Seriously. Seriously.

OK, well, back to that on Monday. Today, it's our final salute to Stars and Infinite Darkness, and our also unbelievably exciting promotional discount. This is probably getting unbelievably repetitive, but: Spend $100, get $15 off if you put "bunnyshop" in as the promotional code. Delightful!

We were torn before two items for our last slot, and we could find no link between them, except for the fact that you could probably wear them together quite nicely, given the right pair of jeans (jeans, always jeans) and appropriate footwear. Our first is this bag from La Voleuse, the design house that was also responsible for the subject of the Day 1 salute to S&ID. Maybe, if we were fair-minded sort of people, we would divvy it up some more and not repeat ourselves, but nothing in this life is ever, ever fair, so screw that. This is their Dark Peacock Blue Velvet Thursday Bag, $210 (-$15), and we love it.


We also quite enjoy the slightly less expensive Gold Metallic Denim Thursday Bag, $190 (-$15).

We would like to say here that the Avenue Q soundtrack is the funniest thing we have ever heard, and this is true even if we are two years behind on that. Seriously, if this were 2003, that would be a really great, underground recommendation.


Next! Bonnie Heart Clyde. That's embroidery. That's the kind of thing we think we could learn to do in 15 minutes, and we buy one of those embroidery kits, and then we take a nap and go to the mall and then six months later we still can't embroider. So much for that plan. Leave it to the professionals, we say, and Bonnie Heart Clyde ... is? are? confusing subject, there. Are professionals. Yes. Clearly they are, even if we are not, with the grammar and such. The best thing about this shirt is the back, which has this bird in flight. Oh, birds. We love this shirt. Gwinna shirt, $112 (-$15!).