Fashion Weak

After traveling for several months, I've finally come to fancy myself a professional traveler.  I'm not sure what qualifies the new title since I'm not getting paid to do this (yet), but passing judgement on the mistakes and faux pas of the surrounding amateur backpackers now just feels right.  Fit from our professional traveler training, we decided to brave the 17 hour bus ride from northern Vietnam to Hoi An.  Even with the new self proclaimed elite traveler status, I am shockingly not as seasoned as I thought.  Luckily for myself and my equally tough travel partner, we packed a curiously large store of Dramamine and Xanax.  It's a cocktail that rightfully puts the Sandman to shame.

Hoi An is a darling little town, a severe contrast to Hanoi where we had to worry about being run over even on the sidewalks.  Hoi An's attraction is not the quaintness or scenic lantern lined river that lazily flows through the center.  The stars of Hoi An are the 600 tailors and clothes shops lining the streets that can replicate any long coveted vintage Dior gown or gecko printed parachute pants that you haven't been able to find since 1991.  You can literally point to anything (and I mean anything) in a magazine and in less than 24 hours your wish is granted at the low, low price only a local sweat shop could possibly manage.  Our deep desires were not for designer gowns, custom leather jackets or even the lost fashion that is coolots (who didn't love those).  No, no, no.  We sauntered into our new home away from home and had three custom rompers (each) made and tailored for our white, towering, western bodies.  I am perfectly aware that there has been a resurgence of romper fashion in the United States and Target sells them in numerous styles and colors for just $12.99.  My jealous obsession with the jumper stems from my inability to wear the store stocked versions of these wondrous gems.  Simply, us taller ladies suffer from the ever glamorous camel-toe effect and it's about time I enjoy the ease of my shorts and shirt being comfortably connected and with my dignity intact.

The women who run these tailor shops should be god damn time share salesmen.  Not only did they talk me into THREE rompers, but they made me feel like one hot piece of ass too.  During the final fitting the Vietnamese seamstress pulled a move I haven't experienced since the dance clubs of New Zealand by winding up and slapping me square on the ass while exclaiming, "it makes it look good"!  I'd be lying if I said it didn't boost my self-esteem a few notches.  I felt damn sexy in that romper.  If only car salesmen were this adorable and pocket-sized.  

I know what you're thinking and no, we didn't just blow a bunch of money on rompers.  We got shoes too.  I had to put myself on a shoe diet for a year to save up for this trip so it took all the restraint I could muster to prevent myself from purchasing all the custom shoes I could get my paws on.  The saving factor being that they had to charge us extra for our big American sized feet.  I get it, they have to use more material, but way to make a girl feel like a tranny.

Following our fashion week soiree, we took a comparatively breezy 12 hour bus to the beach town of Nha Trang for some relaxation (shout out again to the Xanax!).  We've been spending our days kicking the South China Sea's tail, duck diving under the huge waves, frolicking all over the sandy beaches and if I didn't succumb to social pressures I would also admit to peeing in the water.  An obvious victory for us until we realized the ocean had a sneaky teammate; the sun.  Nature is now ahead by two very crispy white girls.