One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday morning in May is to go shopping in the Strip District. When I went this past weekend, the weather was classic Pittsburgh spring—warm, breezy and partly overcast. I strolled Penn, stopping to investigate the vendors' offerings of knock-off sunglasses and potted herbs. Nothing particularly caught my interest. I was especially disappointed that there were no knock-off handbag vendors. Last year around this time I found a knock-off dealer set up on a Saturday in the Strip with real fake Prada.

My Pittsburgh Prada

"Real" fake Prada can be distinguished from "fake" fake Prada by virtue of the fact that it says "Prada" in the signature triangle and not something like "Prego" or "Original." I normally get my Prada knock-offs in Manhattan, and I had all but given up on finding any in Pittsburgh until last year. I was simply tickled to find a knock-off dealer in the Strip last year. And the handbag I bought from him is still the crown jewel of my fake Prada collection—it is, after all, my only Pittsburgh Prada. Alas, though, I have not seen the vendor again since last year.

After buying some oolong tea for Saundra at the Asian Foods grocery, I hopped an 86B to downtown intent on a thumbprint. After a brief stop, wherein I fell in love with a pair of red sandals on sale at the My Lady Boutique but failed to find them in my size, I continued up to the department store formerly known as Kaufmann's. I browsed the costume jewelry for a while, then picked up a half dozen thumbprints, plus one to go, and headed down Fifth Avenue to get some coffee. Along the way, however, still looking to satisfy my hankering for knock-off handbags, I made a stop at Eastern Wigs.

Eastern Wigs

Eastern Wigs, on Fifth near Wood Street, is one of the few "urban corner store" type places left in downtown Pittsburgh. It's the kind of place you might expect to find along Canal Street in Manhattan, except, of course, it's a Pittsburgh incarnation. They have a goodly selection of knock-off handbags, but they're legal knock-offs—i.e. "fake" fake hand-bags. You can find a lot of cool bags, many that are obvious facsimiles for your favorite designers, but you won't find anything with the designer's name on it. Eastern Wigs also offers a variety of women's accessories, costume jewelry and—you guessed it—wigs. I was browsing a turnstile of earrings when the sales lady informed me point blank that they sell a lot of great wigs. This opening of dialog prompted me to confess that I've been kinda wanting a fall.

Within moments, I was in a chair in front of a huge beauty-shop-style. The sales lady showed me a blonde fall in a shade slightly more honey colored than my own head, boasting all the while of it being a hundred percent human hair. I'm not well-versed in the wig scene, but I do know that human hair is traditionally much more expensive than synthetic. I fished for the price tag as she showed it off and discovered that it was $125. I asked if there were any synthetic falls I might consider. Who needs human hair? I've got a whole head of it. The sales lady then told me that they sell no synthetic falls, and if I want synthetic, I'm better off just getting a whole wig. I was skull-capped in the blink of an eye, and the sales lady placed and styled a very pretty straight-haired, blonde wig on my head. It was also more honey-colored than my actual color (note, I do not say "natural" color), but in a whole wig, color matching is no object. It was feathered around the face in front with a variety of streaky highlights and lowlights. The wig was a much more reasonable price at $65, though a tad pricier than I was hoping for, and two drawbacks kept me doubting.

Is is a "real" fake ponytail or a "fake" fake ponytail?

First, I really wanted something that was either substantially longer or thicker than my real hair, preferably both. My hair is currently at its terminal length—that is, a few inches past my shoulders in back. If I try to grow it much longer, keeping up on split ends becomes a cyclical, length-defeating exercise. Second, wigs are hot—and I don't mean in the spicy bedroom dress-up way. I was breaking a sweat sitting in the wig shop styling chair. Perhaps come winter, I will decide that a wig is a stylish alternative to pom-pom ski caps, but it's May, and I didn't want to wait six months before I could use my new hair piece. At this point, I asked to browse the wigs in general, and discovered yet a third option—the false ponytail. For $35 I got what amounts to a wig attached to a hair pincher. It's a shade of blonde slightly cooler (i.e. less golden) than my color, but it runs nearly to my waist. Besides which, if I really wanted my hair to look 100% natural, would I dye it platinum blond? Better yet, maybe I'll endeavor to find a new shade of hair color to match my wig.

A thumbprint and amaretto cappuccino at PPG

Armed with a fake ponytail, seven thumbprints and a hundred oolong tea bags, I headed down to Nicholas Coffee Company in Market Square. After soliciting the advice of the fellow on duty at the espresso bar, I opted for an Amaretto Caramel Cappuccino. From there I went to PPG Plaza where I sat in front of the fountain to eat my thumbprint and drink my cappuccino. With this afternoon respite behind me, I returned to my bus stop and went home to try on my new hair. Stay tuned to find out what happened next when I took my wig out on the town.