Verena Says

This needs no introduction. You can thank me later.

So, I’m kinda pissed. I don’t know if you guys remember but a while back Sara Zucker threw up a link to Urban Outfitter’s Nylon subscription giveaway, and since Nylon is quite possibly the magazine least likely to offend my delicate print sensibilities, I went ahead and signed up.

WELL. Turns out that free subscription was not so much free as it was, well, not free.

This is the response I just got.

Dear VERENA,

We received your request for a FREE one-year subscription to NYLON Magazine. Thank you for your interest in our hot young publication!

Unfortunately we regret to inform you that the FREE-subscription holiday offer was extended only to Urban Outfitter customers who responded by the date given. Perhaps the third-party site you visited had an outdated link; we apologize for any confusion they may have caused you.

We would still love to have you as a NYLON subscriber, however! So we would like to welcome you with this special offer instead: just $9.95 for one year (10 fashion-forward issues) PLUS a cool (and clingy) NYLON Logo T-Shirt – FREE with your paid subscription!

That saves you a substantial 75% off our cover price. And considering how much a fashionable T-shirt can cost these days — $25.00 and up is not uncommon, as you surely know — you can appreciate what a good deal this is…

To take advantage of this special limited-time opportunity, just click here.

We look forward to receiving your order at your earliest convenience; we currently have all sizes of the T-shirt in stock and will ship yours immediately upon payment of your subscription.

Sincerely,

Jacqueline Smith

Look, I’m not normally one to pay for magazine subscriptions. I’ve got a couple that came as a Christmas present and my desk at work is an ode to every CondeNast publication with too many PR people who don’t understand how the Internet works, but this time, somehow, Nylon sucked me in. It might have been the free t-shirt. (What? They said it was clingy.)

Anyway, I clicked through, ended up at a nice little subscription landing page, where $9.99 had somehow morphed into $19.99. (See above illustration / screenshot.)

WTF, Nylon? You take my trust, my imaginary money, and my desperate desire fror a free t-shirt and crap extra digits all over it.

So, which is it, Nylon? $9.99 or $19.99?

I’ll tell you which: Neither.

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GPOYW: Today Sucks and This Is My Version of Brown Hair edition.

(See also: Purple Nails.)

Keep in mind: My hair used to be this color.

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Quite possibly.

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Fair Warning

Look, world, today is a bad day. I’m tired, and the scallops and mashed potatoes that I ate at Extra Virgin last night are sitting like a rock in my stomach. Consequently, I’m full but starving and don’t know what to do about it. My computer died on Monday and its resuscitation required the wiping of the hard drive, so now I’m bookmarkless and confused. Everything is taking twice as long and besides my actual job, I have about 892374928374 emails to catch up on. Also, my awesome glasses won’t be ready for about a week, which means that I won’t be able to wear them for about two weeks because I’ll be ~~gallavanting around~~ working my ass off from LA as of Friday night through the following Sunday.

In other news, my nails are purple and my hair is brown.

Seriously.

(Photos to come.)

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So, I just bought these new glasses and I am a changed woman. For serious. Not only had my prescription not been updated in the last 5 years (I CAN SEE!), but, in case you can’t tell, those glasses are awesome.

That said, the very best thing to come out of all of this is my discovery of Moscot Eyewear and Eyecare (since 1915, of course). Located on the north east corner of Orchard and Delancey, Moscot feels like a timewarp back to, well, 1915, wih just the right amount of modern accoutrements thrown in for good measure (and effective eyecare).

Also, they took my insurance — who knew?! — which is amazing.

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itsthereal:

This beef is cooked.

And delicious!

(Also: so appropriate that I would find myself starring in a video wherein I stuff my face with not one, but two burgers simultaneously. Mmmm…)

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Poor Sam Stein. This looks terrifying.

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akdobbins:

This is the funniest thing on God’s green internet.

No, really. So funny. On so many levels. The entire world needs to see this. I literally laughed out loud.

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Question: What do you get when you put Michelle Obama, adorable children, and a much-loved copy of “Brown Bear, Brown Bear” in the same brightly-colored room?

Answer: SO. MUCH. CUTE.

Also: A slideshow.

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I bought this dress today (by Ali Ro, on Gilt Groupe) on the off chance that one day I’ll have the appropriate 80’s prom-inspired occasion to wear it. Or, you know, not.

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fimoculous:

Micropayments, Reimagined

See accompanying blog post.

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The Talk

Whoa, whoa, WHOA. What is going on up in here? I’ve been dropping followers like flies, though — to be fair — that’s probs what happens when you don’t post anything for weeks aside from THE CUTEST PHOTO OF YOUR DOG EVER and some creepy insidery dream admissions.

Anyway, I kinda feel like I love Tumblr for the backside stuff (Dashboard, voyeurism, Oooh links!) but then hate it for the same reason. I get major stage fright, people, and it just so happens that when I see your smiling avatars, I get a little, “THEY WON’T STOP JUDGING ME!” over here.

So, I’ve made myself a little pact to stop obsessively reading the Dashboard and maybe start pretending like this is a real blog where, you know, I write stuff — which, as it happens, is exactly what I intended this to be and what I am more than capable of doing.

And on that note, this would be a good time to actually offer you some original content, which, sadly, I don’t have, other than the fact that I’ve been totally obsessed with the iPhone PegJump game which was once apparently a real game in real life and which I am utterly incapable of solving, so: I’m not gonna lie, I totally just googled “How to beat peg game” which took me to this YouTube video which I totally watched and which has left me with no real answer other than that chick is somehow, in some way, way, way smarter than me.

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Sometimes, when I ride the subway

caro:

and I look up, and I see Dr. Jonathan Zizmor’s curiously drooping eyes staring down at me from one of his circus-colored advertisements and quietly, coldly judging the layers of city grime and stress on the skin of my face, I cannot help but think of the following:

But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose.

Your Daily Dose of Pretentiousness is now over.

I’m reblogging this for two reasons.

1) I am obsessed with Dr. Zizmor.

2) I am insanely jealous that Caroline’s brain thought of this comparison before I could. My hat off to you, fine lady.

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I’d like to call this “Dumbo’s Metro-North Adventure”. We’re on route to Yonkers for little D’s appointment with a neurologist. Seriously. The things we do for love.

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