It finally happened.
Friday, March 21, 2008. Approximately 10:00am, PDT.
I lost it. I snapped. I screamed. I wept. I slammed doors and threw things. I became the complete and utter perfect picture of Bridezilla and threatened to call the entire thing off.
Over a $26 piece of hosiery.
Straw, camel, back. You know the drill.
Yes, the madness has overtaken me (or had – I think I’m mostly better now. Or at least have stopped screaming).
I can’t really remember the actual moment of snapping (blind rage does this funny memory-erasing thing) – but I do know it all started on Thursday evening.
I’ve been looking for a long, long time for a way to get my hot little hands on this product.
I called all of the local specialty hosiery dealers, to no avail. They sent me on a wild goose-chase from one retailer to another (Diane’s said try the Bay. The Bay said try Holt’s. Holt’s said “try Wolford, if they don’t have it, nobody will.” Wolford didn’t have it.
Wolford did sell me $150 worth of not-quite-good-enough substitute products (which I didn’t end up needing or opening, and can hopefully return for a full refund – or anyone want some fancy French hosiery). Other than that, I seemed SOL.
But thanks to the fact that I’ve committed the gross offense of living in the apparently backwoods unreachable realm of Canada, it proved highly difficult. Spanx does not ship to Canada. This issue is usually avoided by using a PO Box just across the border, but they also don’t accept Canadian billing addresses.
I had trouble finding any online business that carried Spanx at all (nevermind the particular product I wanted) who would ship to Canada. After my breakdown Neil did find one with an actual person he could contact and order from, while I rocked and sobbed in a corner. They’ve shipped the product rush with USPS (for the low, low shipping rate of about $45USD). But I’ve been burned by customs before, and don’t trust the shipment to actually arrive by Wednesday.
Yes I could’ve probably avoided the whole catastrophe by better sourcing and purchasing online months ago, but I was holding out hope that I’d find them (or something similar) locally.
But, hindsight is 20/20 and doesn’t help me find what I need within the week. So I started phoning retailers listed on the Spanx site to see if they carried that particular product. Heck no. They only carry the full out body slimmers that go from nipples to knees. And I explicitly needed the low-rise feature.
My last bastion of hope was to make a last-minute run for the border and drive all the way to my nearest Nordstrom. In Seattle. Over 200 kilometers away. Have I mentioned that while the car co-op is fabulous, they do charge usage by the hour and the kilometer?
And we went on a holiday weekend Friday, when the Canadian dollar is at parity, and everyone within reach of the border is driving across the line (the border line to get home was still 65 minutes, at 1:00am). And it wasn’t a holiday in the States, so once we finally made it across the border and into the Seattle vicinity, we were just in time to hit Seattle rush-hour traffic.
But we finally made it, and got to my beloved Nordstrom. Oh Nordstrom. Why must you be so far away. If I could marry Nordstrom I would.
Not only did they have row upon row upon row of Spanx in every shape, size, colour and style I could imagine, they also had a Bliss cosmetics counter, where I could pick up a gigantic tube of the only body butter to ever have gotten rid of my dry skin this year. I’d gotten a wee tiny tube in my hotel toiletries in New York last fall, and had trouble finding an online retailer to send it to Canada ever since (yes Sephora carries Bliss, no they haven’t had this product every time I’ve looked).
Anyhow. I got my Spanx. And the Body Butter bonus. And then we basically turned around and headed home to avoid spending any more money we don’t have.
So, to recap:
Hours of my time running around looking for a product that only lives online or at Nordstrom: $100’s of dollars
Desperation purchase of not-quite-right substitute at Wolford: $150
Desperation purchase and rush shipping online: $75
Co-op car run to Seattle: $200
The godforsaken ‘can’t live without them’ Spanx: $26.50
Sanity: out the window, probably gone forever
Not calling off the wedding because I’m delusional enough to cancel the entire thing because I refuse to have my dimply cellulite-riddled ass seen through my dress in public: priceless.