How are you today? I am doing fine. I'm not sure why I'm starting this letter the same way I did when I wrote to my imaginary pen pal in fourth grade, but that is not the point. The point is that I checked out your new Simply Vera collection for Kohl's today, and we need to have some words.
I was sooooo stoked to see this collection in the flesh. I'd been anticipating its arrival since, like, I was born, and your 800 page ad/editorial/entire-magazine-devoted-to-you in O magazine got me even more hot and bothered. I mean, look how cute this is:
I love the color palette and the different shapes and colors and textures. I also love that you completely and totally and unabashedly love leggings (amen, sister!). So when this post kindly informed me that we country folk would be able to rope up our oxen and head on out to the nearest Kohl's to find your collection stocked early, well, I roped up my oxen (read: got in my '97 Honda Accord) and got my ass to the store.
And, to borrow a phrase from pretentious academics everywhere, herein lies the problem.
I think I really would have liked these clothes if I were legally blind. And I mean that in the best way. They were fabulous and colorful and unique from far away, but, as I cantered toward them, giggling with unbridled glee, a different picture came into focus, a picture that looked a lot like cheap shit. I saw shoddy seams, beads falling off, and more polyester than a 1970's fondue party.
In other words, Vera, these clothes are total Monets.
I tried on a polyester tunic that made me resemble one of my high school English teachers who resembled a giant grape, and, after gaping at my new, expanded physique in the mirror, I looked at the price tag, just for kicks. $50?? Vera, Vera, Vera. I would normally be very understanding of a price like this, because there's no denying that these are beautiful clothes, but dude (I bet nobody's ever called you dude before, huh? The internet makes me brave...), these are beautiful clothes that are falling apart.
I gotta be straight wichu, girl--I don't live in New York and I can't afford a $10,000 wedding dress, hell, I can't even afford one of your $300 party dresses on Bluefly, but I can still appreciate the difference between good cheap shit and bad cheap shit. You can't pull the polyester over my eyes on this one.
I'm sorry it has to be this way. If you want to send me this dress, things might be different.
picture from O magazine via Jezebel.