Saturday, April 21, 2007

Buy This Poor Girl Some Stuff


So, if you've been reading this weblog for a while, you will know, among other not truly sordid details, that (a) I live in the city and (b) I am moving to a house in the country come summer. You will also know that I love shopping and getting new stuff. And you will also surmise that as a result of living in the city for the past 20 years, and being space-challeneged, I have not acquired nearly the amount of stuff for my kitchen that would be desirable or in keeping with the country-meets-urbanely-sophisticated lifestyle to which I aspire (think Martha Stewart without all those pesky issues with integrity and law-breaking).

When I am not busily working to corral my vrittis like the yogic being that I also aspire to be (think three-legged border collie chasing around a flock of retarded cattle on speed), I am busily conjuring up plans to keep my lady-of-leisure-ass busy. Thus, when the kids are in school, and sometimes even when they are not, I find myself dabbling in dog-walking, wine-tasting, gourmet-cooking, clothes-shopping, hair-doing, plastic-surgerying, yoga-teaching and the occasional lunchtime-gossiping.

Now, at long last, I find myself with a real challenge! I must fill a rather spacious house with the contents of a rather non-spacious (relatively speaking) city apartment. I have subscribed to Architectural Digest, Country Living, Traditional Home and have picked up Elle Decor and Martha Stewart Living on the newstands. But what I find myself coming round to again and again and again is the sad state of my inventory of kitchen supplies. And by sad, I mean, I don't even own a coffee maker with a self-timer and find that it is just easier to buy coffee at the deli on the corner than to ever make it at home! I keep my wine bottles in a wrought iron rack bought at Pottery Barn 14 years ago when I first got engaged to the Husband! I don't own a free-standing cake-mixer, a rolling pin or even a pie tin (truth be told, I don't like to bake because baking inevitably leads to binging on sweets, and who needs that, but still, I am clearly deprived when it comes to the image of myself as an apron-wearing, cookie-baking suburban-style mom). And this, now you'll think this is really strange: I don't own a set of knives. Back when I was engaged, it seemed to me to be bad luck to put knives on my bridal registry. Then when the kids came, I didn't want to have sharp knives in the house. So, over the years, I've acquired a bread knife (got to cut those bagels somehow), a paring knife and a really dull chef's knife. But that's it. And that is totally lame.

Somehow, I don't know how, and I am sure you cannot imagine how, I have managed to pull through these past 20 years in the city without all the accoutrements that I so desperately require. But now the time has come to right the universal wrong.

It is time to buy some new stuff.

Which brings up yet another problem. However much I love to buy new things, that is exactly how much the Husband likes to NOT (think Fred Flintstone, with Wilma whispering in his sleeping ear, "You want to buy me a mink coat, Fred, a mink coat, you want to buy me a mink coat...."). It was hard enough to get him to trade up (and only slightly) from the sales prices of our apartment to a (only slightly, and I mean SLIGHTLY) higher purchase price of our soon-to-be-new home. Imagine what I am going to be up against when it comes time to buy a second (or hopefully THIRD!) car, to furnish the additional bedrooms, to put in the winding stone reflexology path I envision as a necessary part of the property's landscape.

I realize that all of that is not your problem and not your concern. But I also realize that there is one thing that you actually might be able to help me with. And that is outfitting my kitchen!

Yes! You, yes you, can help me to acquire all of the things that I need to make my kitchen the country-chic gourmet retreat that it deserves to be, that I deserve to have! I didn't feel comfortable putting a Pay Pal Donation button on my site, or installing Google ads (I have no problem with people who do, I just personally find that the aesthetic is lacking a certain "juh nuh say kwah" - I wrote that phonetically intentionally, so that anyone who has not been as highly educated as me will nevertheless be able to pronounce it). But I feel QUITE comfortable registering for a Housewarming on the Williams-Sonoma web site.

So, if you want to help buy this pooor girl some stuff, then go on and click Williams-Sonoma, put in my name ("Yoga Chickie") (state of residence is New York and date of event is July 1, 2007); put in the password when prompted ("gimmestuff"). You're doing a good thing for me, so smile as you purchase away!

Thanks everyone! I'm looking forward to getting lots o' stuff!!

YC

10 comments:

V said...

I wish you didn't resort to making fun of people you don't agree with. It's kinda cruel.

Yoga Chickie said...

V - As soon as I wrote it, I wrote to Tiff on her blog (so that it would be there for all to see) that it was NOT that I don't agree with her and it is not making fun of her. Actually, it was Tim's comment on V's blog (or susan's?) that made me think of this as a source of satire. It's just good-natured fun. I really am not making fun of Tiff at all. If I am making fun of anyone, I am MOST guilt of making fun of myself and my level of consumption.

Anonymous said...

Is THAT your new kitchen? How gorgeous is that! Hey, I have formica counter tops, maybe I should set up a pay pal account to get my kitchen redone....hmmm.

kiran

Yoga Chickie said...

Nooooooooo! That is a clive christian kitchen, check out the website for drool material....our kitchen is far more pedestrian!!

Arturo said...

Hi YC
I assume this is satire, eh? I sometimes quote The Onion and some people think that what is being presented is true, but usually it is people of older generations that do. But in any case, if it was a yogi or yogini that needed advice from magazines to get ideas for fixing up a home, magazines like Dwell and Metropolitan Home are more realistic to read than Architectural Digest, which is for maybe 5% of the population. It is fun to see how Armani lives in his Caribbean home, as reported in AD, but it's not how most of us live.
Cheers,
Arturo

Anonymous said...

I really hope you're not serious. You have the lifestyle of a wealthy person, you're buying a mansion, and you want donations to help furnish it? Because you write a blog, which you update every couple of days with details about your life and your irritations with various petty annoyances? Sorry, but I think this appeal for donations is pretty crass.

Yoga Chickie said...

Crass...yes!!! Exactly my point!!! This was satire, however, and I have labeled it as such. Glad it got you thinking.

Arturo - Metro Home seems too urban for me. AD is totally out there, but I always get small inspirations from it, like for a color of a wall or a bedspread pattern.

Anonymous said...

I think calling this 'satire' is just an excuse to dig at someone else, as you have done more than once on your blog. Just because you say it's 'good natured fun' doesn't mean that it is. I actually think it is mean-spirited 'fun' and that you are trying to cover your butt by saying it's 'good-natured'. Just like your 'yoga teacher hit list' idea. Own it, own it!

Yoga Chickie said...

My dear Laksmi,

Make no mistake: It is no secret that you have pointed to me and mocked me on your OWN blog:

To wit, August 2006: "There are so many vacuous and self-indulgent yoga blogs on the web and I, being vacuous and self-indulgent myself, intend to join those masses. Thrill to the minutiae of every stupid asana that I can or can't do. Enjoy my pseudo humility on days in which I 'listen to my body' and 'take it easy'. Hmm. What is the magic number of drop backs that will raise my self-esteem above the level of 'toss pot'? Watch my little front paws run ever faster and faster, and god help us all when the ladies' moon comes. Then the squirrel makes sparks fly. And later, in a few months, I probably won't even post. You'll find this about eight years from now and think, 'God, that's so pathetic. She was so dedicated and so fabulously self-absorbed. I loved to hate her and now she's gone. Oh well, I guess I'll just go back to YOGA CHICKIE [emphasis added]."

And this little bitter ditty: February 2007, I got to meet Susan, a blogger from Portland who reads my blog (thanks Susan! Now can you link to me? We all know I need the traffic...hey, maybe while YOGA CHICKIE IS OFF SKIING< AND I CAN DOMINATE ASHTANGI.NET AND RULE THE WORLD [emphasis added]). It was fun to meet her--kind of like having a blind date. She didn't look at all like her picture (you looked better!) and she was really TALL! Wow."

I never said a word, although it stung both times, and no doubt one of the repeat hits on your blog was none other than me to see if you would continue to say snide and petty things about me without provocation. But I never had one of my schoolyard thugs come to your blog and take me down a notch, did I?

The only reason I even allowed your comment to be published to my blog was that you had the balls to put your name on it. Anonymous attacks never make the cut. Only people with the chutzpah to sign their name get to state their opinions here.

And, Laksmi, you're welcome for the free publicity here. No doubt, a motivation for signing on as your own Blogger self.

Anonymous said...

I'm gratified that you have studied my blog so intently.

Copyright 2005-2007 Lauren Cahn, all rights reserved. Photos appearing on this blog may be subject to third party copyright ownership. You are free to link to this blog and portions hereof, but the use of any direct content requires the prior written consent of the author.

About Me

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Northern Westchester, New York, United States
I live by a duck pond. I used to live by the East River. I don't work. I used to work a lot. Now, not so much. I used to teach a lot of yoga. Now not so much. I still practice a lot of yoga though. A LOT. I love my kids, being outdoors, taking photos, reading magazines, writing and stirring the pot. Enjoy responsibly.

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