I’ve never been to a ‘sample sale’ before, and now I know why. A friend invited me to go along with her to the Rock & Republic sample sale in Hollywood on Sunday. Her friend Marissa was working there.
We arrived around thirty minutes before the end. We walked up to the door after paying ten bucks for valet parking. My friend told them to page Marissa, but her name failed to get a reaction. We were sent to take our place in line by an arrogant turd with gelled-up hair and a fake tan. We soon entered a large, dark warehouse full of wall-to-wall racks of clothing. Deafening hip-hop music assaulted our ears. My friend’s kid, who has perfect pitch, had to go outside to escape the pain.
Inside, the pain continued in the form of hideous overpriced denim, festooned with rhinestones, skulls, embroidered logos and chains. It was the type of clothes that people in Omaha probably associate with celebrities. Pam Anderson probably has some shit by Rock & Republic (with all due respect, Pam.)
Latinas and Black girls manned the aisles, either bopping to the music or looking like they had been awake for 72 hours and weren’t happy about it. My friend handed me one red shoe in my size, with a lethal stiletto heel and several buckled straps. She assumed correctly that I would like it. I looked for the other shoe for around twenty minutes. After finding it, I decided against spending $200 to look like a prostitute who can’t walk.
Meanwhile, my son found some black jeans in his size but didn’t realize it had sparkly letters on the back pockets. I advised him to pass on the washed-up rock star look and he agreed. To make it up to him, I offered to pay for some hole-punching gadget he needs in order to make a low-tech computer with a bicycle-driven engine. Don’t ask.
Anyway, my friend bought a cashmere sweater marked ‘irregular’ that will probably self-destruct after one wearing. I bought a horrible denim vest with big silver buttons that cuts off my circulation and earned a smirk from my usually non-judgmental husband.
Anyone want an awful vest by Rock & Republic in size XS? It’s yours for shipping and handling.
Sample sales are like outlet malls–if you go to one, you feel like you have to buy *something*. Ergo, you now own an XS denim vest.
Haha, you can hold onto the vest. I’ll stick with the jeans. But thanks!
you’re an idiot.
anonomous – Haha, you can’t spell anonymous!
Hmm some one that does not like rock and republic…it seems the world is turning upside down. I’m sorry you are unable to shop in crowded area where there are good clothes up for grab if you have eye balls. Knowing a stuck up bitch like yourself would probably only buy war-mart clothes, enjoy the rest of your life living a underdog that does not appreciate fashion or trends. Too bad your husband is unable to be judgmental because next time you fail to find your size you’ll have your husband to tell you that “Honey you look great!”
You probably wear size 40 women any ways
It is inspiring to hear of success stories like yours. You do give us hope that we can succeed as we all bring a unique mix of strengths and weaknesses to the party.
Thanks for the informative post!
Hi, my sister recommended this blog. I like what I see so far, but I will have to check back a few more times before I put it in my daily bloglist.