I think everyone’s got a lucky store. Just because mine happens to be one of the biggest chains out there, it doesn’t make it any less special. Granted, my love for it has changed over the years, and indeed, come full circle. When I was a girl growing up in a small town in Virginia, I had a lucky little boutique nestled in our outdoor mall. I adored Urban Outfitters, but it was pre-internet (creak, I’m old) and Washington D.C. was two hours away. When I was a PYT in my early twenties in NYC, there was a store on Ludlow in which I could always find something cute enough to make me want to prance around town that night.
But then things got more complicated when I met a guy with a real sense of wanderlust, and we moved around a lot. I no longer had a local go-to. That’s like snipping a kitty’s whiskers off! I didn’t know how to find my way in the dark, and by dark I mean, crappy days when I needed a pick-me-up, or anytime the season changed and I truly had nothing I felt like wearing. For a while I was in Omaha, Nebraska – there’s an Urban there now, but there wasn’t when I lived there with him. At that time in Nebraska, we all turned to Target or the internet. It was then, four years ago now, that I re-discovered Urban Outfitters, and realized their virtual mall was truly nothing to scoff at.
Perhaps (but not likely) you’re wondering what I mean by “lucky store.” I say not likely because I truly believe we all have one. (If not, ouch, sister– go get one!) By lucky, I mean, a store that’s in sync with you and your needs, at all times. Retail therapy usually means you’re headed into the shop in hopes of putting a band-aid on whatever’s ailing you, and by band-aid I mean a sweater that makes you feel warm and loved or a chartreuse tank that makes you feel sexy, or whatever. A silky or sexy band-aid to temporarily wrap a real problem. And if you’ve got a lucky store, you rely on it: you know you can always pop in and find something that’ll work for you. As a sidenote, there is nothing worse than resolving to do a little retail therapy , admitting to yourself you’re just going to go ahead and throw money at the problem, then taking on that guilt, holding out that hope, then going in—and finding NOTHING that works. And not only does nothing work, everything washes you out, everything makes you feel fat, a sweater itched you and now that itch is lingering on the skin you already wanted to jump out of. They talk about buyer’s remorse, but whatever that anti-sensation is, that low down dog feeling of slinking out of a store on a rotten day, empty-handed? That’s a killer. That’s when you decide to turn to wine therapy. Then you can’t find an open liquor store, and when you get home, there’s not even anything on TV. So suddenly you’re sitting on your couch alone, sipping tepid water (you’re out of cubes) wearing fugly clothes and staring at the wall.
Thank God, I never get to that point, because there’s an Urban Outfitters around, and I’m always going to find something that puts a spring in my step. Many of you may hate Urban. I know my Dad and my ex boyfriend do. My dad thinks it’s cheap stuff with an over-priced tag, my ex never understood “why I couldn’t have splattered that paint or ripped that jean leg myself,” and saved the dough. But you know what, Urban wasn’t made for them. I truly believe it was made for me.
I can’t tell you why or how, but I’ve got luck there. I walk in, find that one sweater that looks like it’s 700 bucks but it’s really $68, I find the camisole that dresses up your average pair of jeans, and suddenly I’m wearing the kind of outfit, that if I passed Drew Barrymore on the street, she would ask me where I got my shirt. I find the hat that just works, the jeans that look, again, much more expensive than they are, the scarf that everyone compliments. And I always tell them, “Urban!” And then they say, “but I was just there, and I didn’t see anything.” Well, tough cookies.
I’m sure I’ll outgrow my Urban fix, but that will mean my wallet’s outgrown it– and the day when I can just pop into Calypso for my pick me ups certainly is not tomorrow. While I’m looking forward to that time, I’m content now (and wearing an amazing faux lace nude and silk blouse).
And because Urban sells SO MUCH STUFF, they’re always trying to flush that stuff out to make way for the new goodies. That 58 dollar camisole you’re in love with but can’t justify buying? It WILL go on sale. I promise.
Whether you’re physically walking through or virtually roaming, it’s always good for a cheap thrill. Alice and wonderland glasses for five dollars anyone?
Gilded door handles to make the opening of each door feel a little bit more loaded with possibility?
Sloppy woolen hats for that cute but careless aesthetic?
A ring that’s also a bottle opener so you never have to go thirsty again?
And look at all these amazing cheap camis and tanks for layering!
Love leaves, leaves fall, and yes, cheap cardigans from Urban tend to pill and fade as well. But the good news is, you can always buy another cardi, and next time in a more relevant style (because Urban is always right on trend.) And temporarily, I’ll take that turquoise, or hot pink, or plaid band-aid, and I’ll wear it. And you, my friend, will ask me where I got it.
- Sarah
P.S. a very sweet reader just wrote in and name-checked her “lucky store.” It’s “Whismy” in Baltimore. Please add yours!!
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