Regina: Hey, what’s up — ack ack ack AAACK!

Sarah: Hi, nothing much — what what what what?

Regina: I just — erk! — have to disentangle these — guh! — wire hangers from themselves — ACK! [boi-oi-oing!] God. Okay. Hi.

Sarah: Hi. Cleaning out your closet?

Regina: God. YES. [bee-yoing!]

Sarah: Eeeeeeesh.

Regina: Yeah. I am feeling a REAL kinship with Joan Crawford right now. That is NOT GOOD. Also, ACK. [sssspa-yoing!] You have to help me, dude.

Sarah: How —

Regina: YOU HAVE TO HELP ME, DUDE.

Sarah: Okay okay okay. How do the…what’s the formation? Of the hangers?

Regina: [brrrsh-poing!]

Sarah: Oy, so it’s just a total nest, then.

Regina: Total nest.

Sarah: Because if you just had that one renegade hanger that went all bendy at the bottom —

Regina: Yeah, no, it’s — an orgy, kind of. Basically. Of wire. That doesn’t stop when I walk in on it. While it’s having it. The orgy. You know.

Sarah: Right, right. Okay, here’s what you do.

Regina: Okay.

Sarah: Grab the — elbow? The elbow of one of the hangers.

Regina: Okay. [bra-koi-oi-oing!] Ow. OW, YOU FUCKERS. Okay, got it.

Sarah: Okay, get into the center of the room.

Regina: The center of —

Sarah: Away from anything breakable, pretty much.

Regina: Right. Okay.

Sarah: Okay, get a firm grip on the elbow of the hanger and extend your arm out as far as you can from your body.

Regina: [koing!] Roger.

Sarah: Now when I count to three, wiggle your arm around really fast like you’re playing the maracas.

Regina: Okay.

Sarah: Okay. Ready?

Regina: Ready. Wait, hold on. What’s going to happen, exactly, to — should I put on sunglasses?

Sarah: What — what?

Regina: Do I need protective eyewear, is what I’m asking.

Sarah: Just — lean your head away from your arm.

Regina: Like Janet Jackson in the “Nasty Boys” video.

Sarah: Well…more like in the “Pleasure Principle” video.

Regina: Oh, okay. I always loved her sneakers from that video.

Sarah: Oh my god, so did I! I would try to lace up my sneakers really tight trying to puff out the toes like hers.

Regina: Oh my god, so did I! But it never worked and the top of my foot always fell asleep.

Sarah: Oh my god, so did mine! Oh oh, did you get the black jeans too, and then bitch at your mom to wash them inside out so they’d stay really dark?

Regina: Yeah yeah, and to dry them on high so they’d stay really tight! And she’d never do it!

Sarah: Oh my god, mine either!

Regina: Okay, my arm is aching a little now.

Sarah: Oh, right. Okay, on my three. Ready?

Regina: [krrraa-yoing!] Ready.

Sarah: One…two? Three!

Regina: [ka-ka-ka-spoi-oi-oing! boi-oi-oi-biff-oing! d-d-d-oink-k-k-kkkkssssh!]

Sarah: Wow. Hello?

Regina: Yeah, hi.

Sarah: So?

Regina: So…a few hangers sort of, like, whizzed loose, but there’s still this nesty clump here.

Sarah: Okay, perfect. You can use the whizzed-loose ones.

Regina: What about the nest?

Sarah: Just chuck the nest.

Regina: How exactly does one chuck the nest?

Sarah: One sneaks out to one’s recycling bin, looks around to make sure there aren’t any witnesses, and exiles the nest thereto.

Regina: Gotcha. Okay, unhand my sock, whizzed-loose hanger! [whoing!] OH, JESUS. I am LOSING my MIND.

Sarah: It’s just closet-cleaning stress. Don’t worry ab–

Regina: I JUST SAID “UNHAND MY SOCK.” OUT LOUD.

Sarah: It’s completely understandab–

Regina: HANGERS DON’T HAVE HANDS.

Sarah: I know, honey. It’s okay. I said the word “maracas” earlier in total seriousn–

Regina: I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF.

Sarah: At the risk of sounding judgmental —

Regina: Okay, all right, so I’m not going to kill myself, but this ENTIRE exercise is EXTREMELY depressing. Like, have you ever realized that there’s a certain kind of fashion that you look like shit in, but you just kept buying it in slightly varying styles because you thought maybe you could find that one that worked, and now your closet is full of that fashion but you still look like shit in it and you might as well have lit the money on fire instead?

Sarah: Oh, totally.

Regina: Because I feel like all these kick-pleated skirts are, like, SMIRKING at me right now, so on top of looking like shit in kick-pleated skirts, I’m also CRAZY, like, great.

Sarah: You don’t look like shit in kick-pleated skirts!

Regina: Have you ever seen me in a kick-pleated skirt?

Sarah: Well, no…but I’ve seen you, and I’ve seen kick-pleated skirts, right? And I don’t think you would look like shit in them.

Regina: Yeah, well, think again. Shit, I tell you.

Sarah: What…kind of shit, exactly?

Regina: The shitty kind, uh duh — what are you talking about?

Sarah: Well, there’s the kind of shit where the skirt doesn’t fit right, and then there’s the kind of shit where it’s just not a good style for you —

Regina: That kind.

Sarah: — and then, if I can finish my sentence, there’s the kind where you made up your mind already that it’s going to look like shit, so the skirt wears you instead of you wearing it and you fuss with it the whole time and look all uncomfortable, so then it’s, like, a self-fulfilling looking like…of…shit. Or whatever.

Regina: Like you, with the 501s.

Sarah: No. I legitimately look like legitimate shit in 501s.

Regina: Oh my god, please. You made them look like shit, because you couldn’t stop squirming around and saying you looked like shit.

Sarah: Because I did look like shit!

Regina: No you didn’t!

Sarah: Reg, how exactly does “two rotting sequoia planks, an overstuffed pincushion, and a cushioned-toilet-seat roll of back fat” not look like shit? In Bizarro World?

Regina: That’s not an accurate —

Sarah: Reg. I can’t wear 501s. Trust me. I have tried. I have bought pair after pair. I have tested every possible rinse and cut and waist/leg combination. I have washed them every which way, I have gotten into the bathtub with them on, I have run over them with my car, I look like shit in them, that’s it!

Regina: No you don’t!

Sarah: Yes. I. Do!

Regina: But, but there’s that pair! That you wear all the time!

Sarah: Those are 517s!

Regina: Ohhhhhh.

Sarah: Yeah, see, zip fly, boot cut — not 501s. You can tell they’re not 501s because they don’t —

Regina: Look like shit, got it.

Sarah: You do not get lower in The Hierarchy Of Jeans than 501s.

Regina: Ahhhh, yes. The Around The House Only Jeans.

Sarah: Dude. Lower.

Regina: There’s isn’t a “lower,” is there? Oh, wait — there is. The Take Them Out, Say “I Should Give These Another Chance,” Put Them On, Stand Still For Five Seconds, Say “Ehhhh Nope,” Take Them Off, And Put Them Back Jeans.

Sarah: Ex-aaaaactly.

Regina: You wouldn’t even wear them around the house? On a rainy Sunday when you knew you wouldn’t see anyone? The Frumpy And Outdated But Comfy Pair?

Sarah: 501s are so not comfy, dude.

Regina: So what’s your current Frumpy And Outdated But Comfy?

Sarah: Right now? Gap boot-cut dark-rinse 12s from, like, 1996.

Regina: That’s not that frumpy.

Sarah: Eh. The rinse started to go about three years ago and now they look kind of Guido-y…I don’t know.

Regina: See, that’s the other thing about this closet-cleaning. I’m having to face some really hard truths about my Hierarchy.

Sarah: Dude, I hear you. I just faced those truths about my Hierarchy Of Black Pants last week.

Regina: Why, what happened?

Sarah: Well, I thought I’d just do a little weeding —

Regina: That’s always how it starts.

Sarah: — and the next thing I know I’m on gap.com at two-thirty in the morning, like, rocking myself in my desk chair because I’d just downgraded my all-purpose Could Go Dressy, Could Go Casual, Kinda Depends On The Top You Wear With It Black Pants to Can Look Dressy In Dim Weekend Lighting But No Good For Interviews Black Pants, so I didn’t have any of the, like, goes-both-ways black pants, and my Interviews Only Because That Side Zip Is Wicked Annoying Black Pants don’t fit right anymore.

Regina: It is so upsetting when that happens.

Sarah: I know! I hate not having all-purpose black pants. So I’m whipping through my whole closet because there’s got to be a pair in there I’ve forgotten about, like a pair of suit pants that I could sub in or something, so I find this pair of suit pants, yay, but the legs were seriously billowing, so, you know, not all-purpose black pants.

Regina: No. Interview Black Pants.

Sarah: God, not even. They’re Dinner With Your Parents, Followed By The Opera Black Pants.

Regina: That’s pretty billowy.

Sarah: That’s what I’m saying. So then I find this hanger, like, cranked around at a weird angle, and it has black pants on it! Thank God! But it’s a pair of black capri pants, and it’s not even the good pair of black capri pants, The Sassy, But Also With Pockets, But The Pockets Don’t Get All Bunchy, And Hey, Properly Sized Belt Loops For Once Black Capri Pants.

Regina: It’s The Weird Silky Flappy Dumpy On Sale So What The Hell Black Capri Pants.

Sarah: Oh my god, that’s them!

Regina: The pair that stops juuuuust short of The Golden Girls Wardrobe Department Refugee Capri Pants status, but only because they aren’t pastel-colored?

Sarah: Totally! Those!

Regina: I hate those.

Sarah: So do I! So anyway, I realized that I had no all-purpose sexy-but-appropriate black pants, and I just completely panicked and bought every pair of black pants in my size on gap.com and oldnavy.com.

Regina: And?

Sarah: Well, they haven’t gotten here yet, but I’m telling you, the last few days…trying to dress up The Sassy But Casual Stretch Cargo Black Pants…it’s, like, a waking nightmare.

Regina: God. What if none of the new pants —

Sarah: Bite your tongue. Seriously. I don’t even want to think about it.

Regina: That happened to me with jeans once. I wore The All-Purpose Jeans to do laundry…I did a load of whites…you see where this is going.

Sarah: Oh, no.

Regina: So then I had to downgrade them to The Still Cute But Ripped Or Bleached Or Otherwise Damaged Pair Of Jeans, and I had no all-purpose pair, and, and! That style of all-purpose pair? Discontinued!

Sarah: That always happens to me. I always say to myself, “Self, you should buy three pairs of these, just in case.”

Regina: But then Self reminds you that you can’t afford it, so you don’t do it.

Sarah: Every time, dude. Every time. So what happened?

Regina: So I subbed in The Kind Of Tight But Casual Green Cords for a while, and then those kind of became the all-purpose pair themselves. But it wasn’t the same.

Sarah: I hate that.

Regina: And I’ll tell you what else I hate. I hate it when hemlines change, AGAIN, and it fucks my Hierarchy Of Skirts all to hell.

Sarah: I was just bitching about that the other day. I mean, I’m glad to have the mini back —

Regina: You are?

Sarah: Yeah. Why?

Regina: You are the only person I’ve heard of who’s glad the mini is back. Seriously.

Sarah: I have been waiting for the mini to come back, dude! I have a whole box of minis left over from the last time they were in. I’m just annoyed that —

Regina: You saved your minis?

Sarah: Well…yeah. What?

Regina: Weird.

Sarah: Well, I look pretty good in a mini, so I thought, hey, they’ve got to come back in sometime. So I…saved them. What?

Regina: So I should save my knee-length A-lines, do you think?

Sarah: Well — wait, are those out, now? Aren’t those still in?

Regina: I’m asking you.

Sarah: Don’t ask me.

Regina: But you just said the mini was back in.

Sarah: Well, but — so? The mini is back in.

Regina: But where did you get your information?

Sarah: “Where did” — what are you, a cop? Look in the window of the Gap! It’s minis now!

Regina: So your source on this is the Gap.

Sarah: I — yes. My “source on this” is the Gap. But the Gap still has knee-length skirts too. I think those are still in.

Regina: So…what’s out, then, if minis and knee-length are both still in?

Sarah: Uh…maxi-skirts?

Regina: Oh, thank God.

Sarah: I’m not sure about that, though. I just think they are. I haven’t seen anyone wearing one in ages.

Regina: Are you saving those?

Sarah: Fuck no. I look like Ma Ingalls in those things.

Regina: I hate fashion.

Sarah: God, so do I. And fashion hates me back. Fucking peasant tops.

Regina: Oh, I know. And did you notice that the fashion industry kept trying to sell us the fucking peasant tops all winter? Hi. It is one single solitary degree outside. I do not want a shirt made of gauze.

Sarah: Or to look like I’m pregnant with Jewel’s baby, thanks so much.

Regina: And excuse me, but what’s with all the pale pink everywhere all of a sudden?

Sarah: And the white shorts! I am not a tennis pro!

Regina: I know!

Sarah: And I swore I wouldn’t complain ever again after three years ago when fucking aqua came back in and then went back out again, but — shirt-dresses?

Regina: Ew, when did those come back in?

Sarah: I don’t know. I think they snuck back in at the end of last summer. I really thought we had ridded ourselves of that pestilence for the last time in the mid-nineties, but no. And you know what else is back?

Regina: Appliqué.

Sarah: Ew, really?

Regina: On denim.

Sarah: Oh, for fuck’s sake. Between that and the resurgence of chambray, I don’t —

Regina: CHAMBRAY IS BACK?

Sarah: Yep.

Regina: But I don’t want to dress like Gabrielle Carteris! Oh, and speaking of that…

Sarah: Speaking of…oh. Ohhh no. No, no, no, please no.

Regina: Yep.

Sarah: No! Not…not…short-alls.

Regina: Yep.

Sarah: SHORT-ALLS?

Regina: Yep.

Sarah: I FUCKING HATE FUCKING SHORT-ALLS!

Regina: I know.

Sarah: HATE!

Regina: I shouldn’t have brought it up.

Sarah: Because do you know who looks good in a pair of short-alls? DO YOU?

Regina: Um.

Sarah: NOBODY. FUCKING NOBODY LOOKS FUCKING GOOD IN A FUCKING PAIR OF FUCKING SHORT-ALLS.

Regina: Let’s…talk about something else.

Sarah: Okay. But before we change the subject, I’d just like to say one last thing.

Regina: I — okay, but can you stop screaming so loud? Your voice is, like, all distorting on my phone.

Sarah: I would merely like to observe that, in addition to making the average woman look like a muffin with legs, short-alls make it very difficult to pee, and one of the stupid goddamn short-all straps always winds up trailing into the stupid goddamn toilet bowl. In conclusion, the continued existence of stupid goddamn fucking short-alls makes me want to shoot myself in the eye with a staple gun. And I hate them. A lot.

Regina: Thank you for not screaming.

Sarah: You are welcome. And now, let’s change the subject.

Regina: Can we talk about chambray for a second?

Sarah: Absolutely.

Regina: I HATE CHAMBRAY. HATE IT. Okay, I’m done.

Sarah: All righty then.

Regina: Well, I guess I should probably go and finish this up.

Sarah: What have you got left?

Regina: Well, I’ve got casual sweaters, and shoes, and The Five Stages Of Thin Clothes.

Sarah: Ooh, yuck. I can never get past “anger.”

Regina: I usually get stuck at “bargaining.” I can never bring myself to give up on any of it.

Sarah: It’s good to have hope. I just chuck everything except the vintage stuff.

Regina: Really? Everything?

Sarah: Well…”anger.” I slam it into a trash bag and huff down to the Goodwill and, like, drop-kick it in the door, and then I stomp home and eat cheese and crackers.

Regina: That sounds like a pretty good plan, actually.

Sarah: It is. Especially the cheese part.

Regina: Well, you keep holding on to the fat pants, after all.

Sarah: Oh, the fat pants.

Regina: I dare you to name a more depressing article of clothing.

Sarah: The dickie.

Regina: Hee hee.

Sarah: Heeeeee hee hee.

Regina: Hee.

Sarah: Hee. “Dickie.”

Regina: Hee hee hee hee hee!

Sarah and Regina: HA HA HA HA HAAAAA!

Regina: Dude, the dickie is pretty goddamn depressing.

Sarah: Isn’t it? I mean, if committing to an entire shirt is that hard…

Regina: For real.

Sarah: That’s my pick for most depressing.

Regina: What about knee-highs?

Sarah: Yeah, those are kind of bleak. But dickies are bleaker.

Regina: Yeah, I guess they are. Oh oh, I’ve got one! Ready?

Sarah: Hit me.

Regina: The sock garter.

Sarah: Ooooh, good one. But wouldn’t you say that the sock garter is more sad than depressing?

Regina: Same difference, dude.

Sarah: But the sock garter has a kind of quaintness going on.

Regina: It…does?

Sarah: You don’t think so? That it’s more sad in the way of a sad movie than a dickie?

Regina: But then how is a dickie sad?

Sarah: A dickie isn’t sad. A dickie is depressing. You know, like when someone at your office has one of those kitten posters where the kitten is clinging to the branch —

Regina: And it says “hang in there” on it.

Sarah: Right, so you’re like, “Ha ha, niiiice kitten poster,” because it’s clearly the ironic use of the kitten poster.

Regina: Except it isn’t ironic.

Sarah: Right. So she’s all, “What? You don’t like kittens?” And you’re like, “Oh, no, I like kittens and everything, it’s just…never mind, it’s a very nice poster, I have to go now,” and you leave her cube and you realize that there is at least one person on earth who looks at that kitten and is like, “Well, gosh, if a kitten can do it, so can I,” and suddenly you feel like lying down in the street and waiting for death. That feeling? Depressing.

Regina: That is really depressing. Dude, I feel like crying now.

Sarah: I know.

Regina: I can’t believe you actually knew someone who actually had the actual kitten poster, like, sincerely.

Sarah: Oh, I didn’t — that was just an example. I did work with someone who had a Successories poster, though.

Regina: Really? I’ve never seen one of those in person. Which one was it?

Sarah: You know, I don’t even remember. Whichever one has the boat on it.

Regina: Don’t they all have boats on them?

Sarah: No, I think some of them have sunsets and little kids and soaring eagles and whatnot. I don’t know. This one had a boat. You know, come to think of it, I think this guy probably just liked the boat element.

Regina: But he wasn’t all trying to defend it like, “Yeah, I just wanted a poster with a boat on it, I don’t know.”

Sarah: No, but it’s not like we had a whole discussion about his Successories poster. It was just…up.

Regina: Did you get along with that guy?

Sarah: Oh, sure — I still do. He’s great. He just…had a Successories poster, I don’t know. But you know, I would see it every day in the office, and I would sometimes think to myself that I wished I could look at a poster like that and, I don’t know, get something out of it or whatever.

Regina: Yeah, I know what you mean. I mean, it’s easy to make fun of that stuff —

Sarah: And the kitten poster, I mean, come on.

Regina: Right, I know. But at the same time, if the kitten poster helps her be a not-unhappy person…

Sarah: Yeah, exactly. Like, it doesn’t work for me, but if it works for someone else, what the hell.

Regina: Right.

Sarah: And sometimes I wish that a kitten poster would work for me. That seems like a nice way to live.

Regina: Except the part where bitter cynics like us are making fun of you.

Sarah: But then you don’t really care. You look at your kitten poster and you’re like, “They’re just bitter cynics. I’m going to hang in there anyway.” Because you’re willing to be talked into being happy by a kitten. Which sounds kind of pathetic, but then, if it works, you’re…happy. You know?

Regina: Well, yeah, and then who cares if it’s because of a kitten poster.

Sarah: That’s my point.

Regina: Now I feel bad for making fun of kitten posters.

Sarah: So do I.

Regina: Kind of.

Sarah: A little.

Regina: Okay, not really.

Sarah: Okay, me neither.

Regina: We’re going to die alone.

Sarah: Alone and bitter.

Regina: But it’s not like we can just pretend to like kitten posters.

Sarah: No, it isn’t.

Regina: I mean, they brought back short-alls, but will you buy a pair just to go along with the crowd?

Sarah: No, I most certainly will not.

Regina: So it’s more that we’re independent thinkers.

Sarah: I…okay, sure. Independent thinkers.

Regina: No kitten is going to tell us what to do!

Sarah: Right on! I’ll drop off this branch to my death if I damn well please!

Regina: Yeah! “Cynics-essories”!

Sarah: Totally!

Regina: Hmm. You know…

Sarah: I know. It’s better than That-Guy-B-Gon.

Regina: Way better.

Sarah: Okay, here’s the plan. You finish cleaning your closet, I’ll work up a product list, we’ll talk in an hour.

Regina: Gotcha.

Sarah: And I think I can find a way to work Beanula into the —

Regina: [Click.]

Sarah: Hello?

April 14, 2003

Tags:   curmudgeoning   friends