Federal (Crime) Express- I guess postal carriers like lingerie too

Every day in business breeds a new set of challenges, a new reason for a nervous breakdown, something else to keep you up at night. On Thursday after a relatively good day in business, I received a call that all of the packages we had shipped on the previous Saturday (thankfully not the busiest of days), had been stolen... Actually the packages had been opened, all of the contents removed, sort of resealed and shipped on their way...

WTF (cover your ears readers for all sort of unholy profanities were exclaimed)!!!!!

I swore, I almost had a heart attack when I realized that we were sold out of many of these items (thanks Urban Daddy) making them irreplaceable or at the very least on backorder, I was extremely loud but polite to our fed ex rep hoping one of the two mannerisms would result in our packages being found... to no avail.

Then I breathed deep yoga like breaths over and over again until I was able to speak at a normal decibel. When I was ready, I began calling and emailing the customers effected, offered replacements and discounts and tried my best to give them the customer service that they deserve. (I still feel incredibly guilty that they trusted us with their valuable orders and this is what happened).

When I finished, I called my bestest gay husband who is the head of sales for a lovely French fashion company. Then I began the rant all over again- "Can you believe this happened??? Who do they think they are??? Isn't this the craziest thing you ever heard???

He listened politely (which is extremely rare for him), and then softly chuckled and said "Welcome to fashion. You're in business now and it aint so glamorous, is it?"

No, it's not. It's is beautiful but tough... just like us.

XOXO
Dames and Broads

P.S. Got a call from one of our lingerie vendors in Canada--- our next shipment will be incomplete because all of their 36Cs were stolen off of a truck... HERE WE GO AGAIN. :)

Envy and Girl Crushes

Last night I went out to dinner with some former co workers. After weeks spent working 12 hour days, trying to be a good caregiver to my new blind dog and recently discovering that I am allergic to my make up, I was proud of myself for just showing up. To say that I looked haggard would be a compliment. My hair was pulled back into a frayed ponytail. My attire was very secretarial pool circa Working Girl 1988. Makeup was non existent. I felt like I looked: Worn out.

We got down to the business of our quarterly catch up. After recapping jobs, boyfriends, and such, we veered off course to random story telling. It seems that our friend Kari had ventured into an ad agency to present to clients when all attention became focused on a sales rep from CNN who had just entered the room. She was one of those mythical urban legends that you read about, not only beautiful but incredibly well put together. Or maybe she seemed beautiful only because she was so put together. She did not merely take off her coat as much as there was a "reveal" of Extreme Makeover proportions with all eyes (male and female) on her. Kari then recited to us in elaborate detail every stitch of clothing this siren was wearing weeks ago. And we listened intently about a women we would never meet as if it was monumental in our lives.

I want to be that woman.

I bet she would have worn heels to dinner thereby avoiding frayed pant hems. Her hair probably would have been cascading down her back or at least her ponytail would be smooth and orderly (more Jlo and less Miss Celie from the Color Purple). No way in hell she would have walked out of the house without mascara. And lipstick. And foundation.

She has me beat. I can't be that woman everyday.

But I promise you this: If she had disrobed past her coat and her fancy dress... If she got rid of the expensive wide belt and perfect accessories... If she had chosen to show the world (or at least the inside that ad agency) her foundation garments... she would met her match.

For beneath my common wardrobe, I am formidable.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who has the fairest panties of them all...

ME


XOXO
Dames and Broads


Shop Dames and Broads Lingerie Jan 09

An Open Letter to Hanky Panky--- All in good fun

Dear HP,

I hate to hate. Really I do. But someone has to tell you for your own good. Somehow in your rise to glory, you have become passe. There, I said it. Yes, you are the Tory Burch Reva Ballet flat of thongs, the Magnolia Bakery of underwear, the wedge heel of panties. I am officially over you.

Your ubiquitous presence haunts me. There you are mocking me in every sample sale's community dressing room, on the lips of every d list celebrity. Parading around as a fresh young thing, when you are older than me!

The other girls may fall for it, but I know better. Pumpkin, Waterfall, and Denim are not acceptable colors in my lingerie wardrobe. I am thirty years old for chrissake!

And when did nylon and cotton become all the rage??? Whatever happened to silk and satin? (see pic)

It's ok, HP. It's your time to shine. But I just wanted to let you know, that there will soon be a new kid on the block.

But you are not all bad. Is your PR director looking for more work??? :) :) :)

XOXO
dames and broads