How about just spit in my eye and call it a day?

I frequently get J. Crew e-mails that are titled, "Spring Dresses!" "Fun, Uber-Preppy Summer Clothes That Are Right Up Your Alley!" but should really be entitled, "Too Bad You Are Poor And Cannot Afford Anything In This E-mail!" "Maybe When You Graduate You Won't Have to Shop At Target and Dollar Tree!"

And I usually browse them and send links to my mom in the hopes that she will really be missing me that day and may pop over to the mall on a whim and see the adorable dress/skirt/blouse I just so happened to send her in said e-mail and say to herself, "Bah, it's only money. Let's refinance the house so Kate can have the wardrobe she wants."

It's true, I love everything J. Crew and/or sickeningly preppy, and it's partially her fault - I come from a family that takes portraits in matching khakis and white polo shirts, whose men all have the same "Republican Swoop" hairdo, and whose women wear Lilly Pulitzer on a daily basis to the country club in the summer. Without irony.

Note the swoop. Oddly enough, John Edwards is a Democrat. How did that happen?

It's pretty sick.

And all this was well and good, until I moved out into what most people call "real life," and realized that things cost money. I subsequently concluded that J.Crew is actually pretty fucking ridiculous in terms of what they charge for say, a t-shirt, but I always held a soft spot for it and even occasionally blew a paycheck or two or three on shopping sprees there.

Until today.

They unveiled their yoga collection, and sent me an e-mail announcing it. And I was all, oh sweet, I'm gonna save up and get me some yoga gear. And then I looked at the price, and get this, friends - a CAMISOLE is $40. Now, unless this camisole is not only going to help me do a Downward Dog for 20 minutes without my arms and legs even feeling it, but make me look like I have washboard abs, and curb my appetite between meals, J. Crew can go suck it.

I'm taking my $40 elsewhere...like Dollar Tree...where I can by 40 pieces of crap I don't need, but where I at least know they won't overcharge me for a polka dot scrunchie.

The Superbowl for chicks

Oscar Night! This is exciting. Took a cue from Amanda and picked out my Oscar dress.

First, the two back-ups, because you have to have those in case your tiny dog pees on the first one, or you lose too much weight after a week of daily colonics and eating nothing but grapefruit.

Bill Blass, Fall 2008
Simple but not plain, and I'm loving the eggplant.

Elie Saab, Spring 2008
So Grace, I can't even handle it.

Zac Posen, Spring 2008
Okay, so three back-ups, but can you blame me? Total siren dress.

And finally, my ultimate Oscar dress (this year, at least):

Marchesa, Spring 2008

Except, get this: I'd want it in a royal-almost-purple blue with the gold embroidery. Because one, I have a distinct feeling I'd look positively washed out and heinous in orange, and two, in a world where I attend the Oscars, obviously I'd be best friends with Georgina and Keren and they would have no problem custom-making it for me.

Marchesa photo from style.com, all other photos from nymag.com.