Feeling gypped…and why I shouldn’t use the word gypped.

Most people don’t realize that the word gypped is a racial slur against those nomads known as gypsies. I obviously know this and am sharing it with you. However, racial slur aside, the meaning of the word is to be swindled or feel as though you got less than you paid for. Check it out at Urban Dictionary. Let me explain. I follow three blogs. That’s it. Three. And by follow, I mean that I check them daily. No joke. Daily. And I like it. It makes  me happy and sometimes makes me wonder why I’m not better at blogging…but more on that another time. And of course, those blogs have an Instagram…and I follow those. Check that daily too. (We’re just all sorts of plugged in these days, aren’t we?) One of my favorite blogs suggested/promoted a young entrepeneur who posts a photo of an vintage dress/shirt/handbag/backpack/shoes on Instagram and sells it to the first person to comment with their email address. Sweet deal. It’s like a game PLUS you get something vintage. Cool, right? So I played. This adorable vintage pink dress aptly titled Pink Sail Away Dress was claimed. I received an invoice with NO indication that I would not be able to return did I dislike the dress, it did not fit correctly, or it was damaged. But really, who would sell a damaged dress without including that in the description, right? I paid and patiently waited for the dress to arrive, already planning out the outfits that me and the Pink Sail Away Dress would create together. She arrived and I was greatly disappointed. This dress could have been wonderful!!!…had it been taken care of. There were two holes where I presume belt loops had once been. The button in the center of the bust was missing but a pretty sizable hole was where the button should have been sewn on. The hem had come undone. The bodice was coming apart from the skirt. It was in sad shape. Not worth what I paid and most definitely what I expected. I felt…here it is, GYPPED. And of course, in my haste of pulling the Pink Sail Away Dress out of the package, I failed to notice the disclaimer on my receipt that said “This Shop Does NOT Accept Returns At This Time.” This was written next to the young entrepeneur’s signature and “Thank You!!!” written in gold pen. I completely acknowledge that the button missing shouldn’t be such a big deal. Buy new buttons right? Or that the hole and hem could be resewn if I took it to someone in town. And the dress bodice could have been sewn back onto the skirt for a certain amount of money. I get that…the thing is, that isn’t what I was sold.

I promptly took photos and attached them in an email to the young entrepeneur expressing my disappointment and asking what the next step was. She reluctantly agreed to “make an exception” but before agreeing to such exception, she wanted me to keep the dress and then offered to take $10 off my next purchase. This was because she “hand inspects every item prior to mailout” and “is just as shocked as you are at the condition”. Umm…no. So I repack the dress, seal up the envelope in which it arrived and drive to the post office. I track the package, send it first class, pay my $6 and wait for her to email me to explain how she will be refunding me my money.

I checked the tracking number two days later and guess what? It’s been delivered. I decide to give it a day. I’ll wait and let this person be responsible. I wait a day…nothing. So I email. My package has been delivered to the wrong person. My package isn’t in the hands of the young entrepeneur. The young entrepeneur has no idea where it is. So I email my tracking number and a screen shot from USPS.com telling me that it was delivered on March 14th @ 3:24 pm. Nope says the young entrepeneur. “I was home all day and no packages came.” 

I’m pretty pissed. Was it intentional? Has the package been truly misdelivered? How will I get my money back? Should I call and confront her via phone? Should I chalk it up to $50 that I’ll never see again? Should I post on her instagram posts that she doesn’t do returns? That she isn’t honest? Do I know she isn’t honest? Ugh.



xoxo jess