All About Timing for this Year’s Nordstrom Anniversary Sale

I could be forgiven for lusting after these Frye boots at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale, no?

I could be forgiven for lusting after these Frye boots at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale, no?

In shopping, as in love, timing is everything. Being a perpetual hermit and curmudgeon, I don’t feel much qualified to talk about the second these days, but shopping—now that’s a topic on which I can easily discourse.

That’s why I feel okay coming clean about this: I’m not planning on shopping the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale this year. I know I know, who are you and what have you done with our esteemed blogstress?

Believe me, I’m plenty tempted. In case you don’t know, the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale is the sale that puts all others to shame, the one that makes other sales say “I admit defeat, I can’t compete.” For the Anniversary Sale, Nordstrom puts the latest fall clothes and shoes (and boots! Oh, boots…) on sale at 30 percent off for about a month. When the sale is over, the clothes shoot up to regular price. Last year I bought almost all my fall work clothes at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale.

Still, here’s where the timing issue comes in. It happens that I’m going on vacation next week. Not just any vacation, mind you, but an overseas one, to celebrate a milestone birthday the figure of which shall not be named. Where am I going? Surely you think Paris and Milan are the logical choices. But no.

Here’s a hint: It’s the land of Oscar Wilde and William Butler Yeats and James Joyce and Samuel Beckett and Colm Toibin and Colum McCann and U2 and the Pogues, who were only like one of my favorite bands in high school. And I know that when I’m there all the temptations of the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale will recede and I’ll want instead to be spending money on wool sweaters made from famed local sheep, and the like. So this year, I took advantage of the Anniversary Sale by, um, restocking my lingerie drawers and called it a day.

One of you is gong to make me a mighty nice scarf. Or sweater. Or both.

One of you is gong to make me a mighty nice scarf. Or sweater. Or both.

However, Nordstrom more than senses my internal struggle. See, when I last checked Facebook, not only was there a sponsored post from Nordstrom, but through the magic of cookies (or some other technology that, if I understood, would mean I’d have the kind of job where I wouldn’t have to think twice about buying a new pair of Fryes), but the post showed the very boots I’ve been jonesing for, and reminded me that time is indeed slipping away. “The Anniversary sale,” it said “only comes once a year.”

Meantime, here are my top picks from the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale:

*Mackage wool and leather asymmetrical coat
*Tahari black A-line dress
*Michael Kors pencil dress

Three Little Words

You know I’m not really about dissing (do people still use that word?) anyone or anything. But it’s hard to hold my tongue when I see a typo on a prominent sign, in the store of a major retailer, on one of the busiest streets in the world.

Before I go any further, let me be clear: I love me some North Face gear. In fact, it is safe to say that my North Face down coat has probably saved me from pneumonia.

That said, I have to register this complaint about an Internet kiosk at the North Face store at 73rd Street and Broadway in Manhattan. In block letters over the screen is supposed to be the message: “Exploration Starts Here.” Meaning, you can plan for your adventures  virtually, even before you don your North Face duds and go a-traveling for real.

Except, that’s not what it says, because the last “e” in “here” is missing. So instead it reads: “Exploration Starts Her.”

My more generous-minded Cousin P suggested that maybe the computer is showing a movie about a woman setting out on adventures. Hence “Exploration Starts Her…” on her journey. I don’t think so. This sign is clearly supposed to say “Exploration Starts Here.”

Another friend questioned whether the letter had fallen off. Pretty sure not. Because I have looked closely, on several occasions (here would be a good time for a perfectly justifiable ‘get a life’ comment), and I have come to the conclusion there was NEVER an “e” there.

Now, if I were a betting girl, I’d wager that before North Face put up a kiosk in the middle of a Manhattan store there were team meetings, and proposals, and specs, and more meetings, a revised proposal, and an editorial team that only had to edit: Three. Little. Words.

For me, though, the saddest part is that I seem to be just about the only one who noticed. When I pointed it out in December (nicely, I promise) the salesperson said “Oh yeah, I think someone else mentioned that like a few weeks ago.” Another salesperson added: “The person who fixes that is on vacation.” Fair enough, it was Christmas time.

But, now it’s three months later, and the Internet kiosk still stands “e”-less; shoppers pass buying vests and jackets and hiking boots, oblivious to the the typo in their midst.