I’ve had a a  busy week.  Sadly, the details aren’t interesting, except for the tragic part yesterday when I forgot to watch the premiere of Project Runway.

And when I was invited to my local Gap store to be styled for BlogHer.  I can only assume that the good people at Gap did this because the people in charge of BlogHer called them and complained about my outfits from last year.  So it was sort of a rescue mission, if you will.  A humanitarian effort, like Doctors Without Borders, except with clothes.

I know that I’m a girl and everything, but I really hate shopping. I hate shopping so much that I’ve been known to walk into a store, grab clothes and leave.  After I paid for them, of course.  But I can’t bear to try them on,  so I convince myself so they will fit and that if they don’t, I’ll just return them.  Because that’s obviously easier and faster than going into the fitting room.

But I very much did not hate this.  Because the stylist, Devinne, was amazing.  She asked me a few questions about what I liked and didn’t like and then pulled together outfits that I would have never picked out on my own, but absolutely loved.  I even fell in love and had to have a shirt that looks like a vagina, but in a flowery way, not side-view poster at the gynecologist’s office way.

Devinne and I did  have a small, shall we say, creative difference, when she brought me a pair of skinny jeans to try on.  I have a sneaking suspicion that she just did that for her own amusement, which is something I hope that Doctors Without Borders would never do.  It was certainly an educational experience for me.  Like, I had no idea that thighs were sort of like lungs, and that if they were constricted by thigh-binding matter, they’d stop breathing.

After the medical professionals were done extricating me from the jeans, we resumed regularly scheduled styling.

I love every outfit and accessory.  (I couldn’t get shoes because Gap caters to the human foot, up to size 10.  And I’m size 11, like a supermodel. Or Fred Flinstone.)

And I need to share this with you.  When I first saw it, it made me laugh out loud, which is different from LOL.  I hope that you love it as much as I do.

And if you see me at  BlogHer, please reassure me that my shirt doesn’t look like a vagina.  It’s a real ice breaker.

Like an O'Keeffe painting. With a hint of Botticelli.

Disclosure:  Gap gave me a ton of new clothes, free of charge.  And also two bags.  They are awesome.  Thank you, Gap and Brand About Town!

If there’s anything that I love more than problem-solving products, it’s expensive problem-solving products.

I’m not one to complain, but for years now, I’ve been positively exhausted by having to stand on the corner of a busy NYC street, lifting up my arm and saying “TAXI!” when I want to hail a cab. Sure, sometimes I try to get someone else to do the dirty work for me, but let’s face it, there are not as many saps out there who can be tricked into that kind of task.

Now, my problems have been answered and there is a purse that does the work for me. Yes, reasonably priced at $225 and big enough to hold a tampon, this purse lights up and hails the taxi for you. Which, I’m willing to bet, is more than your purse has done for you lately.

Now that the taxi has been hailed, however, I am re-exhausted all over again by having to tell the taxi driver where I’m going. Is it too difficult to design another purse, that will fit inside the TAXI purse nesting doll style, that says NEAREST WATERING HOLE AND STEP ON IT on it?

And what about you, dear reader? Do you covet the TAXI purse? Or do you want a purse with a different message? Please share.

P.S. I just saw that there were only 100 of these purses made. Hurry!