Archive for the 'Shopping' Category

23
Jul

Being Fashionable in Eastern Europe and Beyond

“So, where do all the prostitutes work?”

Oh no, I thought. I am hallucinating from the hot Kiev weather and too many meetings with depressed and depressing Ukrainian political scientists.

A Ukrainian friend had another friend visiting from a European country where women in general, save for the Sex and the City fans, don’t fetishize high heels and mini skirts. He is a really nice but somewhat naïve guy who hadn’t traveled outside Europe before. He is really enjoying his stay in Kiev. He doesn’t mind hot weather, lack of air conditioning, or disastrous public transportation. He was warned about the mysterious Russian (in this case Ukrainian) soul and is very open minded. But taking him to a red lights district (if there is one in Kiev, of which I am not sure) is too extreme. What was my friend thinking?

“Where have you seen them?”

“On the metro every morning there are tons of them. Where are they going so early?”

And then it hit me. He seriously thought all the made-up ladies in revealing clothing he saw on the metro at 9am were in the business of selling their bodies. But they were just on the commute to work — which most likely didn’t involve selling their bodies.

The conversation above took place several days ago. Today, another friend told me a very similar story about a Dutch guy who asked the same question. This is just sad. The last few days have been really hot, so light, transparent and short clothing are a necessity.  Most men on the streets, Ukrainian and foreign alike, don’t seem to mind. They probably don’t mind women wearing clothes like that at work.

Call me crazy, conservative, and non-Slavic, but I can’t wear a mini skirt and glittery, strappy sandals to work. Ironically, I spend enough time shopping, matching clothes, and collecting high-heeled shoes for my friends to make fun of me. Most of the time, I tend to be on the overdressed side. But not by Kievan standards. For the past few weeks, I have been feeling quite underdressed.

Continue reading ‘Being Fashionable in Eastern Europe and Beyond’

17
Jul

Shopping in Kiev: Ukrainian Wives and iPhones

As I was walking down Kreschatik, Kiev’s main street, I saw a billboard in English that targets foreign men.

Conveniently for visiting foreign men who fell prey to Ukrainian women’s charms, you can now get a Ukrainian wife while doing sightseeing. The company’s office is right there, on Kreschatik, so you can quickly get a brand-new wife, a “fast visa,” and then keep exploring Kiev. For those who want to accessorize their newly acquired wives, iPhones are sold two or three buildings down from the billboard. By the way, iPhones are not officially sold in Ukraine, but the store doesn’t seem to care, openly selling them on Kreschatik for three times the US price.

I wonder how much Ukrainian women are worth these days. I was really tempted to call Joe, the “American manager” of the Ukrainian wives, but I can’t pull off sounding like a man. My boyfriend refused to partake in this. Anyone wants to give me a hand?

09
Jun

Russian Female Enterpreneurs — and Another Blog For Which I Will Be Writing

Happy to announce I will from now on be writing for a very nice blog about Russian: SiberianLight. Those of you russophiles out there, check it out. My article is about a very unusual way women in Russian start their own businesses and can be found here.

How Russian women are running their own online businesses that make fashion affordable - and make a profit.

An Ad for a Second Hand Shop -- Welcome All, a Sale is Going on!

17
Mar

How Legos Didn’t Change My Life

Can you guess what the worst thing about growing up in the Post-Soviet Russia was?

No, not the lack of democracy and freedom of speech. Not the political instability. Not even the shattered economy. It was the lack of Legos.

Legos were one of the many products that poured into Russia after the USSR collapsed. Despite the harsh economic conditions, there was much demand: people were starved for exotic foreign things, so most international companies were thriving. However, there were only a few Lego stores in all of Russia– (at least that I was aware of) in Moscow and St. Petersburg, the largest one in the prohibitively expensive mall right across the Red Square.

Every holiday, I begged my parents for a new Lego set. My ploy to trick them to buy me one for my half-birthday didn’t work out, but for most other big events there was a new set waiting in my room. The only problem was that the stores didn’t carry enough sets. They usually offered only smaller sets since they were the ones in demand.
I pined for the Mechanic and Mindstorms sets. I spent hours drooling over the catalogues — to no avail for there was no opportunity to buy them (that was before the glorious era of internet shopping). I resorted to collecting teddy bears instead.

When I first started traveling, I ran into a Lego store in Germany, but managed to talk myself into not walking in. I figured that I would not be able to leave unless I bought as many Legos as possible. So I went and bought another teddy bear (there were many everywhere of them since it’s Berlin’s tourist specialty). During the trip, I accumulated a fairly large (and dusty) collection of plush animals and kept expanding it later on.

A couple of days ago, I walked into a store in Boston and was greeted by hundreds of shiny boxes…

Not that many things have changed since I used to fall asleep while playing with my beloved Lego sets . Lego Technic now has even more exciting machinery, Lego Mindstorms is now even more complicated (personally, I am not sure if I could deal with it) and there are lots of other Lego sets that drew my attention. I especially liked the Indiana Jones one since a new Indiana Jones was filmed at my college this summer.

I was about to buy a set, but couldn’t make up my mind. I was actually very tempted to purchase a Mindstorms set, but they are on a pricier side. I doubt it is a good investment since I am not sure I wouldn’t be able to assemble it properly.

And then my boyfriend announced he had “bucketfuls of Legos” at his house.

Half an hour later, I was diligently working on an intricate color scheme for a Lego house: I began with a red kitchen, which turned out nicely (red floor, red walls, red stove - my dream kitchen). Then I proceeded to a treasure room (every Lego house should have one, right?). I feel that I was more dexterous ten years ago, but who cares: it is all about the process and the joy of finding that perfect piece that makes an excellent skylight.

That house was later demolished by the tail of said boyfriend’s dog. I am glad it was, actually, for I would not have had the heart to do it myself — and I don’t have anywhere to keep it. Still, just being able to play with the little plastic pieces made me ecstatic.

No more teddy bears for me.

 

12
Mar

One iPod Convert’s Quest to Buy a Zune

Several years ago, I was given an iPod (a now obsolete 30 GB Classic) as a gift. I can’t say I was a big fan. iTunes is not exactly pleasant software to use, and my attempts to load some podcasts or videos onto it were futile. Still, I was happy just listening to the music on airplanes, hiking and on my way to class. And then it disappeared from a desk in my dorm room (destined for ebay or wherever it is ‘missing’ ipods go).

I missed it, but not badly enough to go buy one right away. I assumed I would just buy one at some point, but I was waiting for Apple to come up with an iPod in red - my favorite color. I briefly toyed with the idea of painting the one I used to have with nail polish/acrylic paint or putting a cover on it, but none of these solutions would make it perma-red, so I decided to accept it the way it was.

And then my boyfriend got a Zune. He had it customized (who would have thought some people out there want a picture of two robots fighting laser etched onto the back of their MP3 player?) and obsessively tracked it as it went from the factory in China to Alaska and then to his home. This trip through half of the world lasted for three business days.

I was very skeptical at first. It is only available in one color - plain, boring black. Yes, it has a radio - and WiFi - but who cares, given that the sleek look of an iPod is so much more familiar. The price — $249 — and the memory capacity — 80GB — are the same as the 80GB iPod I had been considering. A Zune is slightly larger, but it would still fit in my purse. It also has a larger screen, but I only used the one my iPod had to click my way through my playlist. As I said, I was one of the many iPod owners who never mastered the seemingly easy process of using it for anything but listening to the music.

As I watched my boyfriend easily navigate the Zune software and the website, I started believing that I could one day muster up the courage to watch some news podcasts on that 3.2 inch screen (3.2 in is still an abstract number to me, but 8.13 cm is impressive). And wirelessly syncing it with my laptop? Ah so very alluring.

Still, I was vacillating. If there were a red Zune out there, I would have gotten one right away, but making a step from the familiar clumsiness of an iPod to the unknown Zune world was painful.

Watching the National Geographic podcasts on my boyfriend’s Zune while on the subway was the last straw. The feature on polyandry in the Himalayas left me persuaded: I want it for myself (a Zune, not two extra boyfriends).

I was in Boston, so I thought there had to be some Zunes in the metro area. I went to a Best Buy - and there were none sold. An entire range of iPods, from a Shuffle to an iPod touch, was, however, represented. But the only Zunes available were the 30GB ones and overpriced 4/8 GB flash models.

One abortive trip to Staples and many calls to various stores later (”Are you sure you don’t want a 30GB one? They even have it in white”), I gave up. Maybe there were some places where one could buy an 80 GB Zune in Boston, but spending an entire day hunting them down is not exactly my cup of tea. Opting for the clunky older versions didn’t seem like that good an idea, either. By that time, I was in full blown retail therapy mood and was not willing to give up.

I could have bought it off the Zune website, but I didn’t really want it customized. Spending an extra $10 or $15 does not seem reasonable since I plan putting red vinyl covers on my Zune (I had researched them well before I decided to buy one). So I opted for the last resort: Amazon.

The order went through Monday evening; it is supposed to be here on Wednesday. For now, I am molesting my boyfriend’s Zune and loving it. While I am doubtful about the utility of the ‘Social’ function (there are not that many Zune owners on campus), I am very happy about the radio: I just found out that it provides the wavebands for US, Europe, and Asia. I just have to make sure that I develop a high level of tolerance for Canto pop, a staple on the Hong Kong radio.

It took my boyfriend’s endless efforts to convince me to get a Zune, and once he had persuaded me and we ventured out to buy one, it was nowhere to be found. What good is all the marketing if the product is unavailable?

For now, I’m sitting here molesting boyfriend’s Zune, waiting for the UPS truck…

01
Mar

Grooming and Globalization

I bought a bottle of a life-changing leave-in hair conditioner in Cambodia.

I woke up in Phnom Penh one day with very misbehaving hair from dry, hot air and lots of dancing the night before. So I went to a supermarket across the street and bought the first bottle with the word “conditioner” interspersed with the Khmer letters on which I set my eyes. It was produced in Thailand by Pantene. It worked wonders for my hair and I took it with me upon returning to Hong Kong. When I realized I was running out, an excursion to the hair-product aisle at a local supermarket proved futile. Pantene offered a variety of hair conditioners to its Hong Kong customers. Some of them of the leave-in kind, but none of them had the desired texture and efficiency. I took a picture of the bottle and sent it to my friends in Thailand. They said nothing similar could be found in Bangkok or anywhere else in Thailand for that matter. My American friends said they could not help, either. Google did not yield a response to my desperate request. I gave up.

Went I went to Russia for the summer break, I saw a familiar-looking bottle in a hair salon. With a slightly modified shape and with Russian instead of Khmer, it was that very same hair conditioner! I bought three bottles on the spot and took two of them with me when packing to go to the US to school. However, what I did forget to pack was my favorite razor. I learned from an online search that the brand (Schick) did not offer the exact same kind, so I settled for a four-bladed “Quattro.”

I was pretty happy with it until I went to Russia for the winter break. I needed a new cartridge and encountered raised eyebrows aplenty upon inquiring for it at the stores. “Four razors? In a *female* razor?” Left with no choice, I bought an environmentally-unfriendly disposable kind.

I am going back to Hong Kong this summer for a summer job/internship. I haven’t checked yet, but I am very sure the exact kind of a razor is not sold there. The kind I have in Russia is not sold there, either.

I have to have three different razor models - made by the same brand - in three different countries if I want to maintain basic hygiene. Apparently, the globalized world has a lot of unwanted body hair!