Tag Archives: fashion

Oct 17 2011
3 Comments
Best blog posts, Fiction, Humorous, Two minute read, Wedding

Say Yes to the Toothpaste!

“the one” was still being shipped

The search has finally ended. Today I found “the one”—the one toothpaste that fits me perfectly, embodies my personality, and makes me look better than everyone else. It’s a little out of my budget range, but I think we all can agree that no price is too high when you find the paste that takes your breath away. I’ve known people who have taken out second mortgages, sold vehicles, and rented out less-favorite children’s rooms to strangers just in order to afford the perfect paste. Personally, I dropped out my fellowship program in order to give this search the time and focus it deserves, and my efforts have not gone unrewarded.

I started with the go-to Crest®, Colgate®, and Aquafresh® collections. I was particularly interested in seeing what Crest® Tartar Control Whitening Plus Scope® Liquid Gel Toothpaste would do for my gum color, and I wasn’t disappointed. After a quick brushing, my gums felt as taut and healthy as a well tuned guitar string. The Aquafresh® number was also a strong competitor with its new Extreme Clean® toothpaste with Micro-Active Foaming Action and Whitening, a product developed in part by NASA. But even though the Extreme Clean® looked and fit wonderfully, it just didn’t feel like “me.” So then I tried on Colgate Total®: Enamel Strength toothpaste that also has 12 hour germ fighting protection. After brushing only once with the Colgate®, I bit through a kitchen table.  I had never felt so powerful. My friends and family also thought Colgate® was a good fit for me, but even so, I still yearned for something else.

When was at my hairdresser’s getting my bangs redone and and talking about my search for “the one,” he asked me if I’d ever tried Sensodyne®.  “It’s America’s #1 desensitizing toothpaste” he said, and “It’s been taking the feeling out of people’s teeth for over 4 decades.”“Wow.” I said. “I had no idea.”

I left straightaway and went to CVS. Standing in the oral care aisle of the drugstore, I felt a calm descend over me as I picked up what I knew would be the last brand of toothpaste I would ever squeeze onto the soft bristles of my toothbrush: Sensodyne® Extra Whitening: Maximum Strength with Fluoride. I headed for the checkout with my prize, grinning like a convict with a secret. The cashier said I’d picked out a nice toothpaste and I knew he was right. This was “the one.”

When I tried on the toothpaste at home, it felt as though it and I were one soul, long separated but at last rejoined. I took pictures of myself brushing my teeth and sent them to my entire family and posted them on facebook so everyone could know just how beautiful my teeth were going to be. The flood of comments and support was overwhelming.

All I can say is that I’m incredibly thankful to have a group of people in my life willing to stick with me and give me honest feedback throughout this process. I refuse to stop now that I’ve found “the one” toothpaste, and will continue similar searches for “the one” toilet paper and “the one” deodorant, and very soon my life will be perfect.

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Sep 08 2011
2 Comments
Anecdotes, Two minute read

Sell Me Your Shoes, Give Us a Smile

Cars, Humans, Buildings

A few days ago, I and my friend were on our way to Fellaki Square in downtown Cairo, matters of international importance awaiting our attention.  This is an area of Cairo that I don’t love since not only is it extremely crowded and noisy, but it boasts a thriving community of sleaze-balls that feed off the steady stream of tourists frequenting these parts. The only occupation of these folks is to slink around and bother the linen clad foreigners passing through. And even though I and friend have been here since June, our appearances are hopelessly foreign and therefore we are subject to the usual tricks of the touts and harassers.

As we were walking, a man passes by us and says to my friend in English, “I like your shoes.” This was unusual. For some reason, the man chose to forgo the traditional “Welcome in/to Egypt” and cut straight to the bizarre chase: footwear. I and friend were confused but not intrigued enough to continue the conversation, so my friend said “Thank you” and we continued to walk away, our backs to him. Conversations that are already this strange when they begin are going nowhere we want to go.

Yet he had more things to say at us about the shoes, shouting after us “How much for them?” This was still bizarre. Perhaps he was just performing his usual shtick, which involves him hanging around downtown waiting for the rare well dressed foreigner in order to heckle them about their shoes. For all I know he might have  a candid camera show that he produces himself by uploading footage from his cell phone for a small but devoted audience. My friend, however, was not interested in selling his shoes, and I still harbored hopes of purchasing them myself and didn’t want to encourage anything. And so we continued on our merry way.

The heckler was not to be ignored, however, and capped off his shoe conversation with both a non sequitur and the most creative end to a drive by harassment that I’ve ever heard. “Smile!” he commanded. Clearly, here was a statement that summed up the interaction perfectly. It was an uncalled-for statement that fit well with the unwanted and purposeless transaction as a whole. Furthermore, as most people know, there’s nothing more grin-inducing than strange men demanding you bare your teeth at them. Unfortunately, the mood had been soured by the failed shoe sale, so this last statement did not compel us to return, nor did it produce the appropriate feelings that would electrify our facial muscles and pull the sides of our mouths up into smiles.

Sometimes, like right now, I wonder what would have happened if we’d stuck around for longer. Would he have pulled out any other gems, like “Your teeth are good. How much for it?” I don’t suppose I’ll ever know the answer, but then again, I don’t suppose I ever really want to talk to him again. Maybe I’ll watch his show.

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Aug 24 2011
111 Comments
Best blog posts, Travelling, Two minute read

If You Love Something, Strap Your Feet Into It

My shoes in repose.

More info about my Italy trip:

Before leaving, it crossed my mind that I might not stand out as much in Italy since the people look more Caucasian and I would be wearing black shirts, which I heard the Italians are prone to do. I could not have begun to fathom the depths of my ignorance.

First of all, Italians (in the regions I visited) are a people who have adapted to the sun by developing more melanin in their skin, giving it a nice tan color. I, in contrast, am of Northern European descent where people are still actively debating whether or not the sun exists more than 3 months a year. I was the pale needle in a bronzed haystack.

Second of all, mimicking Italian fashion requires more than wearing a black shirt purchased at TJ Maxx. The first problem was the fact it was just a frilly black shirt and not a tight tank top. The second problem is that I paired it either with jeans or  business casual slacks (Old Navy) instead of shorts, skinny jeans, or leggings. My backpack was also problematic, since it indicated I was either an elementary school student or a dirty hippy backpacker. Yet despite all these flagrant violations of well known fashion rules, the real deal breaker in my quest to blend in was my adventure sandals, also known as Chacos, that are so supportive the arch that can be seen from the moon. Only a sloppy tourist would dare be seen wearing something close to practical footwear, not including elderly people that have a prescription for their shoes and can’t fight off their nurse.

I proudly admit without shame that I am such a sloppy tourist, and I spent almost my entire European adventure in Chaco’s. These shoes, unlike humans, have never let me down. They lift me 1.5 inches above mysterious ground moisture. They keep my feet comfortable even after walking for hours on ancient Roman streets. They dry quickly should they become wet. They don’t bill me for therapy sessions. I am so dedicated to these shoes that I even wore them when I knew the occasion might call for something more formal, such a fancy dinner with my Italian host’s family. She donned an elegant coral dress and gold jewelry, her sister sparkled in a well tailored black cocktail number and fancy black flats, and I stood out in my wrinkled purple sundress and adventure sandals. I’m almost certain a group of Italian men was mocking me on my way to the bathroom, but I harbor no regrets especially because of what followed.

After dinner, we visited a medieval city full of steep pathways and slippery cobblestone lanes and aimed to climb to the highest point in order see yet another breathtaking view of the Italian countryside. While the others were inching gingerly along in their chic but impractical footware, I sprinted past them and left little puffs of adventure sandal dust in their faces. That night, I proved beyond the shadow of a doubt to myself and the entire world that fashion is never a substitute for functionality. A rib might break, and an ankle might roll, but my arches will forever remain supported. I don’t care what anyone else says; I love my adventure sandals.

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