Retail Do's and WTF's

Do: Offer your shopper lots of options if she's unsure ("long-sleeved shirt" or "slim pant"), fetch extra things to the dressing room, make sure your name's clear, smile, and come off as a generally lovely person to both you and your mother, the shopper.

WTF: Preen in the dressing room area with your favorite co-worker while a customer waits to make eye contact, talking about how his look is so great: "Pedophile, but sexy pedophile."  What. The. Fuck.  Even as an attempt at humor, doing this loudly, in public, at work?  Are you for serious?

So, in sum, interestingly played, Spring Street American Apparel!  Sloane was awesome.  Those other two? Not so much.

Exposure

I can't believe I'm referencing anything the extremely litigious (and, um, angry, wow) Harlan Ellison has to say, but this is an excellent and timely rant.

There are so goddamn many writers who have no idea that they're supposed to be paid--every time they do something, they do it for nothing.  "Good, good, they're gonna look at me, I'm gonna be noticed!"

Related:
"Can I use your photo in this magazine story for free? You'll get exposure."
"Want to write for our blog? You'll get exposure."
"Can you donate this talent that you've worked hard and spent money to develop to this thing that I'm getting paid for?  You'll get exposure."

As the lovely Helen Rosner of Saveur put it last week on Twitter:

Wait, haven't we all agreed that the internet turned out not to be a fluke, and so it's no longer okay to pay for content with "exposure"?
If someone is profiting from your work, you deserve to be paid in a fungible currency accepted by most well-reputed banks and retail outlets.

 Especially the retail outlets.

Clip from Factual Factory's documentary on Harlan Ellison, Dreams with Sharp Teeth.

Power Point

In case you live under a rock or merely don't obsessively follow Bill Cunningham's On the Street feature in the New York Times, Helen made her third appearance in it recently.  WEARING THE COAT I MADE HER.  BAM.

Ask A Handy Femme: Grout is like sand, but awesomer

This is a post that was in the Hairpin rejects folder, because grout isn't funny.  Or I'm not funny when I'm writing about grout.  I'm sorry!  It's just that I take grout very seriously. 

First, thanks for the caulk tutorial! (You’re welcome!) My tub is no longer gross and lined in mildew.  It’s fresh and white and I’ve given everything a pretty deep clean, but in spite of repeated scrubbing with different products and tools, I can’t get the grout to sparkle like the rest of the bathroom, and it’s making my eye twitch.  Is there anything I can do that doesn’t involve actually replacing the grout? 

This is verging on Clean Person territory, but since it sounds like your bathroom is pretty damn clean at this point, I’ll give you a quick solution: grout whitener.   It’s kind of a pain to apply, but easier than re-grouting and more durable than a grout touch-up pen.  Most of these liquid solutions come with an applicator, but keep a small paintbrush on hand for when it wears out.  Start with a very clean, very dry surface, apply to the grout as needed, let dry for a few hours, and wipe off any excess with a damp sponge.  Easy and painless. 

So I recently bought a former apartment-turned-condo that was being lovingly renovated until…suddenly it wasn’t. Housing bubble/developers lost money/bring on the criminal handyman to finish everything! So even though the tile in my shower and bathroom floor is brand new, the grout and/or caulk is peeling/chipping/flaking/grainy and there are holes in some places? And moisture? (In the shower, and where the floor tile and tub meet.) And if I’d known about the sketchy handyman up front I would have had the inspector investigate this more closely but instead here we are. So…can I fix this myself? I read up on caulking and now I sort of wish I could just caulk everything because the whole idea of grouting terrifies me and feels prohibitively hard. I am marginally handy, but possibly more so in my head than in real life. Help! (Please.) 

Can we all pause our lives for a moment and admire you and your home-owning?  Because wow, my life is nowhere near that together. 

Grouting isn’t that hard—just a little slow.  You’ll need:   

• A grout saw  
• A tube of pre-mixed grout. (Since you’re refreshing rather than doing a first round of grout, you don’t need to get the mix-it-yourself dry type.  Make sure you get the right color, though.)  

Grout saws are awesome—almost as satisfying as paint scrapers—and function like an emery board does on nails.  Just run the saw along the old grout gently to remove it.  Wipe away any dust with a damp sponge and let dry.  Then cut a small opening in the tube of grout and apply it to the joints between tiles, kinda like toothpaste.  Smooth it down with a fingertip.  (Your contractor probably skipped this part.)  Let it dry for at least 48 hours; if you’re going to do it, this is a good time to caulk.  Once everything is dry, apply a spray sealant to keep out moisture.  The excess will, in theory, evaporate from the tiles, saving you some extra work compared to other types of sealants.  (If anyone’s had experience with this part, feel free to chime in—the tile might need an extra wipe-down or two.) Now you’re more than marginally handy! 

Ugh. Whyyyyyyyy is chalkboard paint so expensive? And why does it come in such small containers? And in such boring colors that clash with my décor? 

The first time I went to a hardware store to try to find chalkboard paint was a few years ago, before it became as ubiquitous as it seems to be now—that or Brooklyn hardware stores expect their customers to ask for it in a way West Philadelphia ones aren’t trained to do.  “What paint?” “Chalkboard?”  “Oh, yeah, we have chalkboards, in the back.” “No, chalkboard paint.” “Wait what?” “.” 

Eventually I found some of the black kind and covered my dining table with it—one of the best projects a grad student can do, in my opinion, as it provides the same large writing surface for organizing thoughts and papers that a chalk or whiteboard does, but without taking up precious additional space.  Even better? Do a whole wall or door.  For that, you’ll need more than a pint, which is the usual size; at around $10 a can, it’ll get expensive, too. 

As with most things, however, there’s a quick and cheap workaround that requires two ingredients: paint—preferably a flat water-based one—and unsanded grout.  That’s all it takes to mix up gallons and gallons of the stuff.  You’ll want to experiment to get exactly the right texture out of your paint, bu the approximate proportion is 2 tablespoons of grout per cup of paint, or 1:8.  (A gallon of paint needs 2 cups of grout.)  Put the grout into a bucket or whatever you’re using to mix, and add the paint slowly, mixing as you go to make sure it emulsifies smoothly. Then go nuts! A couple layers painted with a roller should do it: let the first dry before applying the second, and prime the surface for use by rubbing with chalk and wiping clean with a damp sponge.

Do you have a handy question?

Street Hair

It seems to be time for a bangs trim.  That didn't stop the lovely Rachael Wright from taking a snap of me and filmmaker Alexandra Roxo, though, and posting it on Marie Claire UK.  I'm fairly sure that it was entirely due to Roxo's amazing hair and lipstick, as I look kind of like a hot mess.  Yes, those are Fair Isle hotpants.  (Thermal ones. From Uniqlo.  Because the Japanese are awesome.)

Army parka, vintage; cardigan, Liu Jo; sweater, J. Crew; hot pants, Uniqlo, booties, Candela. Photo by Rachael Wright.

DIY: Befeathered Earrings

When I was fairly young and wanted a dog, my parents compromised by getting me a hamster, which was very cute and snuggly if a bit boring. (I think they reasoned that a hamster would require a less onerous care routine than a dog, and also if it happened to die on my watch, it would be less traumatic for everyone involved than the death of a larger animal.) When I got a little older and kept demanding a dog (after hamster 1, Tassy, and hamster 2, Milky Way, had passed on to that great hamster wheel in the sky), they, continuing in the questionable-but-generally-accepted-smaller-size-equals-less-trauma vein of reasoning, let me get a bird. She was a cockatiel named Fruna, because I had a habit of naming my pets after candy. (Frunas are like Starburst, but they’re from Peru and less extreme-tasting and come in pastel flavors like pear and blackberry.)

I was obsessed with her feathers. Every time one fell out or she molted, I would save it in a little jewelry box, and eventually (no shame) made a little pillow with them as a keepsake of her. (Once a DIY dork, always a DIY dork.) She was joined by Stretch, a differently-abled lovebird, whose feathers were carefully sorted into their own box. (Tangent: Stretch hated my mother but loved her curly hair, so she would awkwardly climb up my mom’s clothes to nest in her hair, and then violently bite mom whenever she tried to pet her. Very bloodthirsty, for a lovebird. And conflicted.)

Well, here I am, almost 30 and still obsessed with feathers. I’ve been pining after a pair of massive feather earrings (or even just one feathered earring, which I prefer) for a while, but the real statement pieces tend to be prohibitively expensive. Given that you can pick up a bag of feathers for a few bucks at any craft store, there’s no reason not to make your own pair. (Unless you’re vegan. These are definitely not vegan.) Unlike a lot of accessories, these operate under the “more is more” rule of aesthetics. Which isn’t to say that a single feather wouldn’t make a tasteful earring, but really, go big or go home.

One earring will run about $5, depending on how many feathers you want to use and what you already have on hand.  For it, you’ll need:

• A bunch of longish, narrow feathers of your choice (pheasant works well for this). 
• Four inches of narrow ribbon or bias tape. 
• Another six or so inches of ribbon or leather cord. 
• An earring clip or hook, and a jumpring (which is what those little rings that hold the ornament to the clip or hook are called). 
• Tweezers. 
• Fabric glue or rubber cement. 

 
Thread the short length of ribbon or bias tape through your jumpring and glue the two ends together to form a tab, making sure you leave the open side of the jumpring exposed.



While the glue dries, sort the feathers on your work surface from greatest to smallest length. Cover one side of the tab in glue and stick the feathers on it, starting with the longest ones at the end and staggering the shorter ones over them as you move closer to the jumpring.



Once the glue has set, do the same thing to the other side of the tab. Again, let the glue set. (Completely, otherwise you’ll have a mess on your hands.)

Now thread the longer piece of ribbon or leather cord through the jumpring and glue one end in place at the top of the feathers; twist it back up and wrap it around the feathers a few time until the ends are completely hidden.



Glue the end in place neatly, since this bit will be exposed. Finally, use the tweezers to nudge the ends of the jumpring apart and hook it onto the earring hardware.



Pinch the ends back in place with the tweezers, and then turn the ring gently so the open end is inside the ribbon tab. And you’re done!

A Musing

Back in the day, dudes would teach themselves languages by double translating. The Bible from English to Latin and back to English, or Aeschylus from Greek to English and back again.  (This is how Nathaniel Bowditch learned Latin to read Newton's Principia in one of my favorite childhood books.)

I wonder if I could do this with Stieg Larsson's Millenium trilogy.  And then I could say annoying things about it like, "The prose is terrible in English, but it's so much better in the original."

Dear Anthropologie

Do you offer Anthrapologies? Because in your Rockefeller store today I came across these pajama pants. These French seams--on sale for a TOTALLY reasonable $99--look like they were done by a junior high home ec student.