Cupshe, A Public Service Announcerant

I don’t generally consider myself any more intelligent or knowledgeable than the average person I pass on the street. So it always throws me off when I discover that something I know isn’t common knowledge. But it seems I am discovering more and more that I was a friendless nerd growing up, and I sought the company of random and seldom useful data on the Internet more than that of my peers.

In any matter, I always feel morally…maybe civically obligated to share these things. So on that note, my cousin texted me.

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My family is going on a trip next month, and she sent me this picture of the outfit she was getting. It’s cute, and she said our other cousin ordered one too, and it might be fun if we all matched. She sent me a link to the site. She didn’t give me a direct link to the outfit for sale, only the home page. So I had to wander through the whole site to find this piece. And the more pages I clicked, the more I scrolled through, the more confidence I lost in this clothing company.

“Have you bought things from this site before,” I asked my cousin.

“No, but it seems pretty legit. I found it on Pinterest!”

Pretty…legit…

…Pinterest..

Legit…  

No.

So much…no.

Where do I begin? Well first off, I became initially skeptical because, as I started clicking on items, all of the pictures on the description page were blurry. How can you sell something as visual as fashion, and not feature clear imaging of what you’re selling? Every item for sale.cupshe-1Then… well, let me just show you a few photos.
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We have what looks like a professional fashion shoot photo, a kind of sexual photo of some oompa loompa tanned blonde chick, and a… a sweater. Just a sweater, chilling by itself.

Uhm, question.

How the feezy do these three pictures come from the same source? I’m supposed to believe that this is a reputable business? A business who posts bathroom selfies of garments for sale and believes that’s viable marketing? Surely we have not gotten that bad as a society yet. I mean, I know we’re close, but we can’t be there yet.

This was the point in time that I texted my cousin back and asked if she had purchased clothes from this site before. And she said no, but the photo of the outfit she bought was on Pinterest.

Because if it’s on the Internet, it must be legit, right?

Pinterest is a great website. You make a profile, and you can create pinboards to post your interests and catagorize them. It’s aesthetically nice, as you just endlessly scroll through nice pictures from other users that you follow, and repin what you like. You can add the Pinterest widget to your browser so if you like a picture from anywhere on the Net, you can immediately pin it to one of your boards on the platform. And the cool thing is, each pinned picture is actually a saved hyperlink to the webpage it originated from. That’s why it’s so great for the crafty among us. Recipes, needlework patterns, shopping, fitness routines, beauty how-tos, whatever! You can go back to them whenever you want by just clicking your pin later on.

What?

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How could you tell I’ve been a member of Pinterest since it began, back when you needed to be invited and only considered to join after a social media background check?

So why is “I got it from Pinterest,” then, not a legitimate excuse to purchase anything online?

Because Pinterest, while it likes to act as though it is more sophisticated and classy than other websites, gets its content from us. Just like every other social media platform. 

And we, as the mass populace, don’t do things right, and have the collective intelligence level: stupid

That will always be the downfall of social media. The users generate the content, and people are generally morons. Pinterest worked hard for years to screen their members and educate its users of plagiarism, copyright, and sourcing, and of course people still pinned images from Google, or didn’t cite sources of content, or didn’t question the validity of the sites they visited for these pins. And over time, when it comes to buying things and using Pinterest to find what you want, the site has effectively become the Wikipedia of eCommerce. Just because it’s there, doesn’t mean it’s true.

Now then, so far we have a sketchy source, an even sketchier display of product, and I’m still ranting, so what else is wrong? Well with all of those red flags, I decided to research reviews of the website.

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But let me stop being mean. There are some positive reviews…

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…in broken English.

It is with the legitimacy and trustings. I am the convinced.

I digress. Anyways, it took me a whole two minutes to find all of this information. It’s so easy to look things up online that it pains me to discover that people just don’t. Or don’t even think to, or find something off about these Chinese discount fashion websites. I feel like getting sucked into these things is today’s equivalent of getting conned by Nigerian princes emailing you for help. You should know better.

I mean, you can go ahead and take your chances. I’ve purchased plenty of things from Chinese sellers that seemed too good to be true. But I at least knew I was taking a risk, and that the best case scenario is generally that I get something of okay to low quality, maybe on time. Anyone buying things with the highest expectations, because they saw it on Pinterest, kinda deserves the L.

UPDATE: Luckily, my cousins did in fact receive their packages in time for our trip to Cuba. I’d consider them some of the few success stories, so huzzah. I instead, opted to have my aunt make me a similar cover up so I could kinda still join my cousins in the whole matching thing. It came out amazing.

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Handmade wrap skirt, courtesy of @2ChicDesigns!

TL;DR: Word to the wise, check the legitimacy of online shopping sites before you throw your money at them. And no, don’t take your inquiry to Pinterest. Hopefully happy online shopping to you all.

 

Quarter Life Crisis: How Many Stormys

…does it take to change a light bulb?

No seriously.

The lights in the main room of my apartment went out last week.

Here we go, I thought, forced to face yet another new trial in this world we call “adulting.”

Geez, I tell ya. Every time you start thinking you’re doing a pretty good job at this stuff, the lights go out on all of your pride. In this case, quite literally.

Disclaimer: The title of this post is not a matter of questioning my ability to replace a light bulb. I mean c’mon guys, I didn’t grow up that privileged and oblivious. I’ve changed many a light bulb in my day, EXCUSE YOU.

But see,

the light bulb changing process, as I’ve known it, has always gone as follows:

1.) Light bulb goes out

2.) Storm goes to the storage closet/garage/junk drawer/fallout shelter/apocalypse bunker/what have you, and pulls out new light bulb

3.) Storm replaces light bulb

4.) Storm revels in her accomplished task (it’s the little things, guys), and basks in the new light

But this time is different.

This time, I can’t figure out Step 2.

I went to the storage closet/garage/junk drawer/fallout shelter/apocalypse bunker/what have you, to discover that not only do I not even have a storage closet/garage/junk drawer/fallout shelter/apocalypse bunker/what have you in my shoebox of a studio, but I also don’t have any light bulbs!

It was in that moment that it occurred to me.

Light bulbs are a thing…that you buy. They don’t just come with the concept of having your own living space.

And woah, woah WAIT…

nothing does…

Oh. My. God. What’s next? What have I gotten myself into? How does anyone do this? I—I never read the manual! It didn’t come with the deal either.

…Just like the light bulbs.

…Just like everything else.

And I repeat, Oh my God. I eventually stopped hyperventilating and peeled myself off the floor and prepared myself to be a competent human being and get more light bulbs. But hold on. Where do light bulbs come from?

Ideas?

Light bulb stork?

Light bulbs R Us?

Lightbulbs.org?

Light bulb dealer under the sketchy overpass?

I took to the Internet. You can apparently get them…almost everywhere. Who knew?! Don’t actually answer that. But anyways, Google sent me to Lowe’s. I unscrewed one of my light bulbs for reference, and headed there.

By the time I arrived at the store, I had sent myself through at least three different levels of mental anguish about the whole ordeal. A strange mix of embarrassment and pride led me to look for the light bulbs, refusing to ask for any assistance.

Like a moth to a flame, I walked towards the middle of the warehouse to the lighting department. You know, where all the lamps and ceiling fans and lawn lights, and just…just all the lights are. And they’re all on. And of course I’d find light bulbs in a giant area of lit ones, right?

I couldn’t find a single light bulb for sale.

In the light section. The section of the store where everything related to making your home not dark is located. I walk one aisle over. Doorbells. I go to the other aisle over. Nuts and bolts. I go back to the lighting department, because it only makes sense, and I must have overlooked it.

So much light.

So many fans.

It’s bright.

It’s cool.

It’s lacking in light bulbs.

And I’m lacking in patience.

I asked for help. The light bulbs were in aisle 1. Only as far away as possible from the light section without putting them outside with the potted plants. But who am I to try and apply common sense to the organization of a hardware store?

Finally, light bulbs.

There are numbers. Numbers with Ws next to them.

weather? water? why?…wumbo?

Let’s just say it stands for whatever, because my head is starting to hurt.

Okay, well how many whatever’s do I need? Does it matter? Would it be there if it didn’t matter? How am I suppposed to know how many whatever’s I need?

I pull out the old light bulb that I remembered that I brought with me for such a time as this. I analyze the small print at the base of the bulb.

Trisonic. Numbers with a K at the end. Numbers with a V at the end. Assorted warnings that I skimmed. Where’s the W? There’s no W. And the boxes of light bulbs have no Ks or Vs… Well this was a load of help.

I figure I’ll just buy a box, and if it blows up my house, I’ll return it for the correct amount of whatever’s. You would think that was the end of my debacle. But no. I get through the whatever’s and then I’m faced with all of these colors.

Soft white. Off white. Bright white. Bright bright white. Not so bright white. Egg white. Cocaine white. White power. And then the yellows. Please don’t make me re-live the yellows.

Since when does light have a color anyway? I thought it was all the colors and none of the colors? At the same time, kinda? I don’t know, I was an English major in school, science is lost on me. And so is this purchase.

I just had a seat on the floor for a moment. Confused. Overwhelmed. Thinking to myself, I’m…going to die here…trying to buy light bulbs.

No.

I can’t go out like that.

I just bought a damn box. It said ‘Daylight.’ And I figured maybe the 60w bulbs, because my apartment is old so maybe I don’t want all of the whatevers, but I deserve more than the bare minimum of whatevers…whatever the whatevers are.

I successfully replaced all seven light bulbs in my apartment, and a week has gone by without me short circuiting the building so I guess I did it right? Right amount of whatevers. The daylight light is kind of nice for selfies. I’d consider this a win. Yes. I did the adulting and won. Until my next crisis, guys.