Archive for the cinnamon Category

925 Grind: Cinnamon – Clothes Shop 1

Posted in cinnamon, update with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 26, 2009 by 925grind

Yeah – I’m a clothes nazi; what of it? I have to work here daily and see people come in who have absolutely no sense of fashion and I am supposed to smile at them and make them feel good about their purchases. Sure, madam, you don’t look fat in that; no, it doesn’t look like you are smuggling a tyre around with you. No, sir, you do not look like your father and those tight jeans don’t betray the fact that you have less of a package than the gnat which just bit you on the neck.
I am stylish; it is how I got the job. I read the ad and I turned up and they took one look at me and they knew they had to have me. If I had the kind of connections that most of those rich bitches do who end up in Vogue then you would see me walking my perfect little behind down a catwalk wearing Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Chanel; only the best. But no, I got born to people whose only connections were with other useless ineffectual nobodies.
So, you think I’m a bitch, yeah? You know what? Fuck you. What do you know about me? Fuck all. Think it’s easy having to look good 24/7? No, it’s fucking not – and on my budget? Forget about it. If I slept with my landlord then I wouldn’t have to pay rent, but I’m no skanky whore and even if I was I wouldn’t let him get his hand in my pants. It makes me feel dirty that he regularly gets his hand in my wallet – but the bills are included and the room’s fucking huge – so, what are you going to do?
Mr Fucking Clueless comes in with Mrs Fucking Clueless and they both stand there cooing over each other, right? And all I want to do is gag – like, heave my spine up right there. And they buy something that even a guy with a white cane could tell them isn’t going to look good – it’s loose in all the wrong places and tight in all the wrong places; jesus, people, learn something about lines, can you?
So, yeah, if you come in here and you see me staring at you like you landed from another planet then that is probably down to the fact that this is what you look like – like an emissary of planet Shabby or something. If you raid your mom’s wardrobe thinking you’re pulling off some kind of retro chic then you’re really missing the point; if you’re actually going to thrift stores then you’re demonstrating you have no clue. It’s about how much you spend; it’s about the label; it’s about appearance for God’s sake. Anyone who stands up now and says it’s all down to personal taste is volunteering to step in front of the firing squad – don’t be so fucking naive. There are experts out there who train for this kind of thing; they know how important it is, and so should you.
Do you read fashion magazines? Do you engage with the real world? Are you actually a real person? Do you know what your wardrobe is really for? It is not a repository for all the ill-fitting hippy droppings you adjusted yourself – go and find out about haute couture.