I have two weddings to attend this weekend, and despite all my best pre-planning intentions, I hadn't lost weight, I hadn?t gotten a haircut, and I especially hadn't yet found something to wear. So, yesterday afternoon, I left my apartment in a flurry of desperation, spent hours trying on and discarding items, and then, at the sad and sweaty moment I was about to call it a day, a miracle occurred. I rang the doorbell of a wondrous store named Sir, was greeted by a warm and helpful salesgirl, found everything was on sale and in my size, and walked out with: two dresses, two pairs of shoes, and, just for fun, a fitted wool blazer. I am still stunned by this X Files—like shopping experience. But here's the best part. The heels I bought are from Modern Vintage, a label I hadn't heard of before, but I?m now completely besotted. They are so comfortable! But not frumpy! It's everything I want! Please let me share my good shopping karma and lead you to this (deeply discounted) footwear on eBay. Right now, you can find a handful of pairs by typing in "Modern Vintage Shoes." Of them, I love these and these and these and very, very much these.

Encouraged by the utter adorableness of both Leighton Meester's character on Gossip Girl and Kenley from this season's Project Runway, I am increasingly tempted to try wearing a headband. But because I'm not sure how this will work out, and because a good headband that does not look like something from a mall kiosk costs many dollars (the Gossip Girl versions go for around $200), I know this is one of the purchases for which I must turn to eBay. And behold! Just what I wanted: a subtle peacock hairband that I can wear with a fitted black '60s dress, matte red lipstick, and perhaps a cigarette holder (um, maybe that last part is a little too much).

All of this talk about the "slow fashion" movement over the past couple of weeks has me feeling kind of guilty about how I shop. Firstly, I buy in bulk: Each season I purchase armfuls of cheap replicas of high fashion trends and then treat them with about as much care as I would a lobster bib. The second issue is where I shop and the fact that I rarely give any thought to the conditions under which my clothes were created, the materials they're made of, and how all of this affects the planet. So, I'm wondering if I need to up my game a little bit—learn to be creative with less and start paying more for well-made pieces I can wear for a long time. I want clothes that are interesting and high quality, like items from Belgian designer Martin Margiela, all of which are sleek and innovative and seemingly timeless. Today on eBay, I'm in love with a bunch of MM's jackets: This sailorish version, an outstandingly versatile trench, a simple well-tailored blazer, and this handmade leather piece, which is so cool and chic I don't know if I could even pull it off.

I know I've talked about this a lot here, but bear with me: I still want a vintage floral dress. Only this time I want one that's fitted, darker, and more—I absolutely cannot believe I'm about to say this—grunge. Pieces like this, this, and this, where the dense prints are almost an afterthought, and the emphasis is on the contrast of sweet flowers in an otherwise dark outfit. I know exactly what I'd wear with these dresses, because honestly, I've done it once before—an oversize grandpa cardigan, super-black tights, darkish lips, straight hair and ... some kind of heels. Because the only thing I refuse to go back to in this grunge redux odyssey is my once-ubiquitous Dr. Martens.

I love nothing more than when one of my friends asks me to find them something on eBay, and I come through, and then they're pleased. This happened just last week with my friend Valerie, who was looking for something I would never think to buy—a compass necklace. Valerie has an offbeat, pretty, urban-earthy style, and this was exactly the kind of unusual item that would complement her super-feminine clothes. Plus, as I found out, compass necklaces are just plain cool—like a surprising take on a pocket watch, except not as weird; or a watch necklace, except not as granny-ish. I found several on the site today including this Victorian version, which I'd wear with a flowy floral dress, and this Girl Scout style, which begs for a fitted tee, blazer, and jeans.

Okay, stay with me here. I was scanning eBay today with a new challenge in mind. I wanted to find The Find—that sort of scary, unexpected item that, if pulled off correctly, can make one feel like a fashion superstar. And I came across some jumpsuits. I'm not talking about those cute romper-shorts things that were around all summer, but a full-on, neck-to-leg, pants-attached-to-a-top onesie. I understand we've all seen this look go wrong many times, and there are certainly options/Elvis atrocities that are so out of the question that they hurt my feelings. But if done right, with a really excellent fit (like this muted floral version by Christian Lacroix or a more buttoned-up St. John style) I feel like a jumpsuit could channel a breezy, '60s Jane Birkin or Bianca Jagger in her slinkiest prime. And that's the kind of sexy, unique anchor piece we're always looking for, right?

I keep reading all of these fashion stories about how we all need to start wearing stilettos—how the "wrong" people started wearing flats, so now every shoe you put on should have a heel or you're lame. This bit of news has been making me very sad (like when platforms went out and people were devastated because they felt they balanced out their rears). Then yesterday on the subway, I was sitting next to one of those future-fashion women—the kind who serve as a sort of style oracle and everything they have on now you (or models in magazines) will soon be wearing. This very beautiful girl had on flat ankle boots like these and I thought, "Wait a second. This person is way cool and if she's holding on to her flat things, so can I." So, that's the good news. The bad news? She was also wearing an acid-wash skirt.

The laid-back coffee shop down the street from my apartment closed last month, which means that if I want a morning iced coffee (and believe me I want a morning iced coffee) I now have to head out of my comfort zone, six blocks away, to a new, swank espresso bar. I know this is a silly thing to complain about, but there's an unexpected problem: The women in this coffee shop dress up. On, like, a Tuesday morning. At 9:30 AM. Not to go to a workplace, which of course I would understand, but to sit in an overstuffed chair, listen to Wilco, and bang away on their laptops. The biggest culprit is a woman we shall call R.C., because the first day I saw her she had on what I believe was this Rachel Comey jacket, perfectly fitting jeans, and flat patent leather flats that looked like these. She was also wearing three pretty, delicate chains, lip gloss, and had a blowout. Like Red, she stared at my schlubby outfit with a tiny look of pity (when will I learn?). The next day, I tried at least a little by throwing on my Built by Wendy smock and a bit of makeup, but R.C. had me totally beat with a black silk dress and strappy gold sandals. Now, there are a couple of reasons why these women might want to turn it out in my chill Brooklyn neighborhood—they could be meeting someone afterward or might just have a ton of pride in their appearance. Or maybe, just maybe, it's what I noticed on day three at the fancy new coffee place: The tall, brown-haired barista is really hot.

As much as I love the massive editing and Internet sharing that can be done with digital cameras, I miss the happy mistakes that occur with old-school, developed-at-the-Photomat film. I also very much miss actually seeing pictures, which everyone always says they're going to print but never do. However, I've had some bad luck buying vintage cameras on eBay—they've arrived broken, needed parts replaced that no one could find, or took film that's no longer being made. My solution to all this is to purchase a new, amazingly rudimentary Holga, which is known for light leaks that make beautifully messed-up photos. I just bought one on eBay last week and this weekend I plan to take it to Coney Island and experiment. Bad artsy results to follow!

Lately my favorite garment treatment on anything has been the Swiss dot technique, where little polka dots are sewn onto (often sheer) fabric creating a girly/pretty relief-map effect. Seriously this is one of the most feminine-without-being-cloying embellishments I've ever seen on clothes. It's elegant and sophisticated, but still fun. Check out all the cool Swiss dot pieces I found on eBay: A soft gray Juicy Couture tunic, a pretty tie-neck blouse that would be ideal for work with wide-legged trousers, and this amazing sheer burgundy dress which I'd pair with a vintage slip and tall black-heeled boots.