I Got it at Sears!

 Fabulous Felt Blue Blossom Barrette

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Metaphor, Sears

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Nine West, Boscov's

 Emerald Emperor Necklace

Jacket: Bongo, Sears

Cami: Marshalls

Capris: l.e.i., Macy's

Shoes: Shoe Dept.
Bag: Eleven Peacocks, Etsy

Fabulous Felt Hummingbird Barrette

Top: Bongo, Sears

Cami: Worthington, JCPenney

Skirt: Necessary Objects, Annie Sez

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Uniquely Different, Etsy

Demure . . .

Or daring!

Fabulous Felt Girly Garden Barrette

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Worthington, JCPenney

Jeans: Vanilla Star, JCPenney

Pink shoes: City Streets, JCPenney

Yellow shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy

Yellow bag: City Streets, JCPenney

Green bag: DSW

I love a good department store commercial.  I love the colorful way the retailers talk up their wares, the patina of their slick ad-speak lending respectability to the street vendor spirit that lives at their core.  Like any good salespeople, they zero in on their business' unique personalities, manipulating consumers' preconceptions to transform weaknesses into strengths.  Take the latest JCPenney commercial.  "We know we've changed," the near-bankrupt big box store bargains, "but we want to hear from you; better yet, we want to see you." (or something like that).  This attempt to appeal to the sentimentality of once-ardent shoppers in the voice of a jilted yet conciliatory lover is as amusing as it is shameful, so much so that Conan wove a one-liner about it into his monologue last week.  But these days, it's the siren call of Sears that strikes the right chord with me in terms of storytelling skill and sartorial savvy.  If you watch network TV, then you've seen its latest promo.  An attractive, thirty- or forty-something woman is going about her daily life to the tune of, "Where'd you get that outfit?"  At first, she's embarrassed, defensively muttering, "Sears," as in, yeah-the-same-place-you-go-for-appliances, but as the compliments continue to flow, she becomes more confident, even going as far as to announce to an airplane-ful of people, "Sears, I got the outfit at Sears!"  

Now, I've never been a big Sears shopper (that mid-1990s "come see the softer side of Sears" campaign notwithstanding).  Although I've culled a few choice pieces from its racks over the years, this hardware headquarters of sorts never made my go-to list in the way of JCP, Kohl's, or even Macy's.  That having been said, I recently received a few gifts from there that were really cute.  Coupled with the commercial, they were enough to send me to the land of power tools in search of, not nuts and bolts, but pretty togs (and okay, if I'm being honest, that necessary evil known as the oil change).  As this post advertises, I wasn't disappointed.  The Bongo brand in particular was blooming with a bubblegum brightness that was as beguiling in juniors' sportswear as it was in shoes.  (I also made one non-Bongo purchase, which I'll feature in a later post.)  Better yet, the prices couldn't be beat, bringing to mind those halcyon days of deep discounts at JCPenney.  

So, it's safe to say that I'll be returning . . .  long before my next oil change.