misosouper, a shopping blog

We just started doing the whole hanging out at the playground thing, and the most challenging part of the routine seems to be choosing an outfit.*

I’m trying to strike the balance between slutty mom (cleavage, muffin top, 3″ platforms) and beaten-down-by-the-world mom (husband’s 2004 marathon t-shirt, tapered jeans, Crocs); this little track jacket over a tank and skinny jeans puts me right where I want to be.

*Modesty, particularly in view of other mothers, isn’t my strong suit. Have you seen their eyes? Like laser beams, I tell you, boring into the nub of your pitiful, insecure soul.

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When my daughter was tiny, I found myself washing my hands 14 times a day, if not to remove the imaginary germs that were contaminating her skin, then to wipe off spittle or some other bodily ook. Bar soap has a communal yick factor and dish soap is slimy, so I settled on Method’s Foaming Hand Wash. Amazing smell and texture, but the bottle, cool as it looks, seemed to run dry after 36 hours.

Enter the most thoughtful, economical, and environmentally friendly of products: a pump that turns your own liquid soap into foam. Obsessive hand washers like me (oh, who am I kidding; I scrubbed all day even before she was born) rejoice.

This tabletop arcade, featuring 150 quarter-sucking time-killers from my youth, is like, 150 times better than one of those handheld, plug-in to your TV Pacman joysticks.

For only 10,000 quarters, this beauty will turn your house into a home. (Or get you kicked out, because you just spent $2500 on a glorified Atari.)

As long as you stay under the sheets, you’ll be OK.

The plan for my tiny guest bathroom: to paper the walls with these frames, then paste them up with my collection of vintage Florida postcards. Have fun choosing your loo’s own adventure.

Confession: I am short, and it ain’t no big thing. When fashion advice suggests high, I go low, rocking my Havaianas Slim Season and Bo’em Eve flip-flops during the summer, height be damned. Plus, who cares about 3 inches of stature when I’m teeteringly close to dropping my toddler on her head?

These Clarks might just change my mind: in addition to the fact that they’re downright sexy with shorts, the heel and insole are so stable and supportive that I can run in them, either with my daughter, or after her.

Having a kid gives you the opportunity to reclaim certain primordial pleasures, chief among them Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, rubber ducks, and coloring books. Inspired by yesterday’s Everywhere Daily Candy, I present to you the ultimate in cheap fun: color your own Modern Art Masterpieces and Human Anatomy. Throw in a Classic Crayola 64-Pack and a bottle of Two Buck Chuck, and a hot Friday night (after the kids go to sleep, of course) is all yours for under $15. Staying inside the lines optional.

I’m categorizing this under Splurge-day Thursday because, while the price for this Hungarian baby bathtub isn’t outrageous, it remains, well, a Hungarian baby bathtub, with limited application beyond bathing Hungarian babies and icing summer drinks. Really, Hungarian baby bathtubs shouldn’t be more than $20, but apparently Garnet Hill didn’t get that memo. (Tangential note: How did Garnet Hill discover this stash of “vintage” bathtubs? Was J. Peterman somehow involved?)

Despite its limits, I still want one; the Hungarian baby bathtub reminds me of my best friend’s wedding, where we grabbed beers from a frosty rowboat on her deck, only this is the all-grown-up, now-we-drink-champagne version.

I’ve been searching for the perfect green lamp to balance my family room’s unwieldy collection of Floraline pottery. The world contains some fabulous green lamps, but none priced quite as well as this cool crackly glazed specimen from Target. The shade alone–soft, with a linen texture that diffuses the light–is worth the price.

The challenge with polished travertine floors (oh the misery!) is warming them up while retaining their cool simplicity. This rug in the round (named Woodstock, natch) would do the trick.