I Can't, Vol. 53

I can't...

that EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE is blush. Millennial pink. Rose. Whatever the fuck you want to call it, it is in every crevice of every everything right now and tempting me with its every appearance. Did I know this color was #ONBRAND when I chose it as my revamped site's pop color? Yes. But did I know I would be this haunted by it? No. For example, Abercrombie (WHO IS KILLING THE FALL/WINTER GAME BTW) flashed this at me this week and it's now waiting patiently in my cart (amongst 7 other things). I swear, if the Millennial pink trend goes away, I am FUCKED.

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I can't...

decide what's the worst to shop for: jeans, bathing suits, or formal dresses. Every time I'm shopping for any of the three, whichever one it is in that moment is the worst, bar none. But when I'm just sitting at home thinking about things that upset me (a favorite pastime of mine), this old-as-time debate always seems to pop back up. Sometimes I think formal dresses are the worst because you so rarely get to wear them that the pressure is ON when it comes time to find one. You want to go big or go home, but there's so much to look at and consider and try on and hate yourself in that you almost always find yourself wishing someone else would just find it for you. It's just TOO MUCH. 

I can't...

with Chipotle's "queso." This is incredibly difficult for me to write. I've never spoken an ill-word about my most beloved QSR (that's Quick Service Restaurant for all of you who've never been in advertising/marketing and had the distinct pleasure of servicing one (sarcasm)), but their sorry excuse for one of my favorite food groups (queso) has left me with no choice. It's awful. It's so bad. It's gritty, it's watery, and it has next to no flavor. It's bad with chips and without them. "Maybe it was made a certain way to only taste good ON the food?" one of my friends suggested. No. No, friend. It was not made for that purpose. And even if it was, it still misses the mark. Truly, just when you thought 2017 couldn't get anymore fucked up or disappointing, Chipotle completely botches its attempt at queso. SHOULD'VE CONSULTED ME, GUYS. OR ANYONE FROM TEXAS FOR THAT MATTER. I CAN'T.

I can't...

with all of LOFT's new fall arrivals. Rich colors, flattering cuts, and lots of sweaters. PLUS, it's all 40% off right the fuck now! No code necessary. I'm coveting this (#ONBRAND, anyone?), this (with high waisted jeans and booties? GET OUT OF HERE), and this (cause it's cool AF). And 100 other things. Send up some prayers for my bank account, please thanks.

I can't...

with thredUP. Have you heard of this company? If not, allow me to inform you. But before I do, know this: I haven't popped off about a company like I'm about to since the infamous Nordstrom dressing room letter of 2014. So, thredUP is an online resale shop to which you can sell your closet rejects for cash money. Basically, it's just like Buffalo Exchange or Plato's but online. So let's say you undergo a life-changing closet cleanout like I did back in June. After you've sold what you can locally, you still have about 40-50 very decent pieces leftover that you'd like to try and sell elsewhere (after all, you're more than likely in minor credit card debt because of those 40-50 pieces you clearly should've never bought in the first place). So, you try thredUP. You order one of their clean out "kits," it arrives in the mail, and you fill the extra sturdy pre-labeled bag to the fucking brim with your closet rejects. A few weeks go by. Then a month. And finally, thredUP has informed you that they have received your package. Just received it, though — not actually gone through it. Another few weeks go by, which turns into another month and again threduP finally informs you they've gone through your bag's contents, and that they are keeping 36 items to resell for a grand total of $356! Pretty legit, right? But wait. What's this? They're only giving YOU $15.96?

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For 36 items (that are almost ALL SOLD BTW) they're marketing to their shopper for over $350. Oh, and not only that, but you'll get that $15.96 via a prepaid Visa debit card that you can't request to be sent out until two weeks from learning what your cash out amount is. Yes, you must wait an additional two weeks just to REQUEST the pre paid card be delivered. Then another week or so on top of that for it to arrive. So, all in, thredUP made me wait about 3.5 months to claim 15 fucking dollars for over 75% of the pieces I sent them. I got robbed, y'all. ROBBED. But there's no way of discussing it with them since they have made it next to impossible to contact them. No email. No phone number. Just a "Contact Us" page with their physical address, a link to a FAQ customer service page so they don't have to deal with our shit directly, and an email address for anyone inquiring about media opportunities. Well, here's a media opportunity thredUP:  you left me no choice but to call you out on my own platform since you've rendered your company so elusive. $15. So insulting. NEVER AGAIN, thredUP. NEVER. AGAIN.

I can't...

believe it but after 1,000 years, I think I'm finally moving away from lace thongs. I've discussed a lot of things on my blog, but I don't think I've ever shared my underwear habits (which is probably for the best). However, I ordered and have fallen in love with my first no-lace thongs in YEARS. They're Victoria Secret, comfortable as all hell and, wouldn't you know it, COME IN A MILLENNIAL PINK. But, really, any color is great and they're my new favorite.

I can't...

deal with this heat one more day. I just need everyone not in Texas or other warm states to understand that, although fall sort of came early for them, they are very lucky. They are so, so lucky. The luckiest. In fact, I hate them. I hate you if you're dealing with 60-70º temperatures right now. The hate is temporary; it'll dissipate with time. But for right now, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of your rainy days and necessary umbrellas. I don't like you or the fact that you can comfortably wear jeans, close-toed shoes, and a light sweater. Sure, I'm currently wearing the same things. But I'm sweating underneath it all. I'm sweating so much and so hard and I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. 

I can't...

with this entire look, speaking of Millennial pink and not being able to wear fall/winter clothing yet: 

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Like. HOW COOL IS THIS OUTFIT? A FULL ON SUIT IN THE MOST COVETED COLOR OF OUR GENERATION? COME ON. I already have the sneaks, so that's a step. Now I just need to find out where this suit is sold, buy it, grow several inches, get rid of my thigh gap and THEN we're in business.

I can't...

stop applying Burt's Bees Coconut and Pear chapstick. I didn't even know it was a thing and now I want it on my lips every second of every day. It's the little things in life, ya know? Like tiny, delicious, soothing chapsticks.

I can't...

with Shailene Woodley at the Emmy's. Not in a good way either (although, her dress was gorgeous and her boobs are impressive). refinery29's article about it quoted her as saying (AT THE EMMYS, KEEP IN MIND): "All my friends who watch TV, I always ask them when they have time to. When do people have time to? I'm a reader, so I always read a book." BITCH. YOUR 👏DAMN👏 SHOW👏 AND👏 YOUR👏 WORK👏 ON👏 TELEVISION 👏AND👏 MOVIES👏 IS👏 WHAT👏 HAS👏 BROUGHT 👏YOU 👏HERE 👏TONIGHT👏 WHAT'S THE DISCONNECT? WHY ARE YOU? GOOD GOD. Twitter had a hey day with her commentary, and this is probably my favorite tweet about it. I just. I can't.

I can't...

decide if I should do a podcast or YouTube channel. I asked for my newsletter subscribers' vote the other week, and almost every response was a loud PODCAST!!! but I'm still very conflicted. Although I know the chances of my readers commenting on this post are slim to none, I'm still going to put it out there for any and everyone to weigh-in: Podcast or YouTube? Podcast you can listen to. YouTube you can watch AND/OR listen to. What do you prefer? What do you want to see, hear, or experience? Do you like my face, voice, both, or none? If you comment with your two cents, it'll mean more than you know. It's gonna be one or the other and I'd love for anyone who gives a shit to have a say.

xox,

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Emma Golden8 Comments