Like approximately a gazillion other women, I was super, extra, crazy excited for the Missoni at Target line. Embarrassingly excited, even. Squealingly excited.
Juiced as I was, I was not excited enough to line up before the store opened - mostly because I have worn-out kids in their second week of school.
Admittedly, I (briefly) debated getting them up early so mommy could shop. After all, mommy's had a tough couple of months, and, strange though it may sound, it's kind of nice to get excited again about something intensely frivolous.
However. I came to my senses and realized that waking the kids to shop was idiotic, and I would have to take my chances and hope that stuff would still be in the stores, because I was not getting two tired kids out of bed in order to shop.
So I took my chances.
And it was all gone.
Seriously. My mom and I went to Northgate and there was one looooonely (and notably hideous) camisole hanging forlornly by a single ugly strap in front of a really big Missoni display. That was it, other than Missoni signs - sans actual Missoni items - sprinkled through the store. It was pretty impressive, actually. 10:30am on a weekday, and virtually every last Missoni item had been vacuumed out of that store.
Which, okay. That I can live with. I knowingly took my chances and I missed out.
Mom and I trucked down to another store (okay, we're a little lame), which was also impressively picked over, but had more than one item left (and had several actually attractive children's items left).
So, since I coveted stuff for presents (and for myself), I went online, and ordered a bunch of stuff which I was excited for. Including, I might add (to drum up some sympathy, although it's also true) some stuff to brighten up the days of a relative who is ill with cancer and enjoys Missoni. And then the site crashed, emptying my cart.
So I tried again. Except the order wouldn't place, and different items in my cart sloooooowly vanished from the cart as I screamed "no! no! nonononononono! Come baaaaaack! I had you first!" (in, of course, an extremely dignified manner), presumably as other customers managed to place orders on the exact same items.
Target is a behemoth. The kind of crappy, amateurish inventory management in which customer's orders vanish before their eyes as they try to pay is what you'd expect if the fellows in this photo headed up your inventory and IT departments.
Or, if, say, a mom and pop operation had a huge, unexpected run on their website. But not from a large corporation with over 1,700 retail stores and 300,000 employees. And, you know, billllllllions in revenue. Yes. I looked it up. Because if you put me on hold for over 45 minutes at a stretch (which I'll then have to lose my place in line to go deal with the goats, picking the kids up from school, coaching soccer and the like), I will look up geeky info like numbers of stores and employees.
A call to customer service (after massive hold times! Wheee!) resulted in a "Oops, that is a problem! But... we can't do anything about it." Could I order it from them over the telephone? Nope. Could they do anything but tell me, gee whiz, they were terribly sorry? Nope.
I'm not really feeling the love right now.
However, truth be told, one, not being able to buy Missoni at Target (even if those items are really, really, really painfully, covetably cute) is not an actual problem. Despite my frustration, I am aware of that.
And, also, I did score Curly a pair of crazy cute rain boots and some socks, which goes a looooong way towards consoling me over my still-vexing non-problem (when consoling someone over a retail problem like mine do you say: "oh, poor baby. You tried sooooo hard to shop and couldn't spend as much as you wanted to. That must be sooooo difficult!!"??), especially because Curly squealed in surprised delight the same way I would have if I'd managed to score, say, the adorable ballet flats or one of the skirts or dresses.
Which, oh, right. I did score those things. I ordered them. Target put the order through to my cart. And then, as I repeatedly tried to pay, the items slowly, slowly slipped out of my cart.
So the bottom line is that Target sucks, and some other woman who is not me is prancing around delightedly after spending hours online begging Target to let her order go through, and having her Missoni prayers answered by Da Interwebs. Dammit.
Curly does look cute in those boots, though.