The Break Up

I just do not learn. How many times do I get burned and yet I go back? Does some strange, warped part of my withered raisin of a brain believe that, maybe this time, we can make this relationship work? That it won't happen again? That it will all be worth it? That I won't feel so cheap and cheated?

Fear not, Husband and I are great. I'm referring to my nearly decade-long love/hate relationship with Newport News.

I freely admit that I am stingy with myself and I am lazy and my tendency is toward that of a hermit. All of these factors contribute to my abhorrence of going to the mall to spend untold quantities of money on things I likely won't be wearing in 6 months, and that's IF the crappy lighting and scary mirrors and nasty dressing rooms don't reinforce my countless body issues and result in me sprinting back to my car, sobbing like a teenaged girl who didn't make the cheerleading squad. Thus, I am oft tempted by the siren song of catalog and Internet shopping. What's this? I can stay seated in jeans and a sloppy sweatshirt, paging through stacks and stacks of fashion-rag approved yet affordable items, selecting colors and styles at whim, and that these finds will be brought to me practically on a silver platter? Let me just get my card...

Newport and I have had some good times. I remain devoted to their 3 1/2" pumps, especially in my beloved charcoal gray, although I will admit some difficulty with the sizing these days (do they make a size 8 3/4? Because that would be sweet!) I receive nothing but compliments on the black maillot swimsuit I ordered six years ago and that they don't sell anymore. I sincerely love my gold and onyx earrings. And their semiweekly catalogs offer endless chuckles - especially from their Together line.

But oh, we have had our bad times as well.

I offer you Exhibit A, the two-piece suit (dress and jacket) I bought in 2002, which arrived with a shapeless nothing of a shift that was supposed to be the dress, and a jacket with one arm a solid two inches shorter than the other.

I offer you Exhibit B, the red lace stretch camisole (lined, Mom) I bought in 2008... that arrived with one strap sewn on twisted. No, seriously, after attaching the first side of the left strap, the seamstress accidentally twisted the strap before anchoring the other side; in other words, I have no way to untwist it without disassembling the entire upper seam.

And I offer you Exhibit C, my very first Rosie post.

I've tried to break up with Newport before. I thought they'd get the hint when I even cancelled my Club Membership. (To become a Club member, you pay $25 up front, then for the succeeding 12 months, you receive 10% off each purchase. If, over the course of those 12 months, you do not save a net minimum of $25 - thus saving you back your buy-in price - Newport sends you a store credit for the remainder, valid for a year from the time of award. This sounds like a no-lose plan, but counts on you being able to find anything to spend that store credit on within that year. Sometimes you have to push yourself and you end up with more returns.)

Yet through it all, my denial is strong and my will power and checkbook weak, and I come crawling back to order yet another disappointment. It happened again just last week.

Husband and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary at a resort in Jamaica from May 16 to May 23, and the resort requires patrons to dress up a little for dinner at the nicer restaurants. Thus, I need an army of pretty warm-weather dresses, and my go-to wedding attire is just a little too fancy. Thus I found and ordered the pretty outfit at right.

Tropical, flowy, resort-y, downright pretty. The waist is low enough to not effect hippo-hips, the bodice tight enough that I won't have to worry about showing more than I ought, the skirt is graceful yet hemmed high enough for beach walking, and the colors bold enough to contrast well with my pasty complexion.

I knew it Newport! I knew you'd come through for me! I knew I could count on you! You won't let me down this time!

Feeling all was right with the world, I also ordered a red stone necklace much like that in the picture, some hot pink strappy wedges, and a pretty green/blue/violet swimsuit.

I know I'm probably setting myself up for a crash with that swimsuit because there is no way in hell anyone would mistake my figure for that of the lovely Yamila Diaz there, but hope springs eternal.

I received a shipment notice earlier this week, indicating the sandals and the necklace were being shipped and that the swimsuit and dress were slightly backordered. No biggie, they often backorder things at Newport.

I received the shipped items on Tuesday, and inexplicably, that sinking feeling I often get when their gray plastic bag shows up at my door returned. I didn't even open it until Wednesday, perhaps subconsciously trying to stave off what I've come to recognize as impending disappointment. It arrived nonetheless. The necklace was entirely too long and too heavy and looked way cheap. I guess you get what you pay for, and I've always had issues with dimensional perception, so I have no one to blame but myself for the length problem.

But as ever with their shipments, they included a solid pound of additional Newport catalogs, featuring on the cover the Dress of High Hopes. I was about to throw them away when something caught my eye and caused me to look just a little closer... In disbelief, I paged quickly to the product description. My fears were confirmed.

This is what I saw:

No, no, that is not a glitch in the graphic, or an optical illusion caused by the bold pattern.

That, my Rosie fans, is a PATCH POCKET! On a FLOWY SKIRT! What reason could there possibly be to place POCKETS on a FLOWY SKIRT!? WHAT COULD ANYONE IN THIS DRESS POSSIBLY NEED SO DESPERATELY TO CARRY THAT IT SEEMED CROMULENT TO INCLUDE BIG AWKWARD PATCH POCKETS?

The illusion is shattered. Suddenly the dress has become the upsetting love child of Carmen Miranda's closet and an apron. Disgusted, I looked up my order summary, intent on cancelling the dress before anyone wasted postage on it. Since it was backordered, I could probably head it off. It's a good thing I checked: "BACKORDERED. EXPECTED TO SHIP MAY 23."

That's right. It wouldn't even ship until after we returned from the vacation for which I had ordered the dress in the first place. What others have pointed out to me, and what I find even more disturbing than this latest heartache, is that the fact that the dress is backordered at all means that so many women were similarly duped by the Patch Pocket Dress that Newport actually ran through its entire stock.

So Newport, we need to Talk. I'm breaking up with you. It's not you, it's me. ... Okay, it's you. We're through, once and for all. Send me my guaranteed-to-disappoint swimsuit so that I can send it back with the necklace and maybe the sandals. I'm not angry, just sad. We can still be friends. I know you'll keep sending me catalogs in hopes that I'll forget again. And I can't swear I'll never buy another pair of your pumps or earrings. But never again shall your synthetics hang awkwardly from my frame or display VPL for the world to see. It's time. Goodbye.