"I think I'll just order it online, thanks..."

Super cute, right?

That's what I thought, too, when I slipped into this 'Cappella' empire-waisted blouse in rich navy silk with delicate pleated mesh detailing, textured sweetheart neckline and keyhole back.

But the question at hand, the question that really mattered as I did my usual twirl-and-tilt at every angle in every mirror available to me was not whether this Nanette Lepore top was super cute but rather was it super cute enough to cancel Friday's grocery delivery, not buy that new pair of running shoes I desperately needed and to force myself to do the whole brownbag lunch thing for the next two weeks using only the non-perishables my Mother sent me in this month's care package so as to finance its hefty $215 price-tag?

As I weighed the pros (blouse = mine) and the cons (body = malnourished), did some additional posing and took some additional photos, my "I think I'll get it!" moment was suddenly interrupted by the extraordinarily rude salesgirl who not only had the audacity to stick her head through the sliver of unavoidable openness in the lime green curtain with nary a knock on the adjacent wall but who did so solely to determine if I "was done yet" so she could let another person who had "more than one item" use the dressing room I was oh-so-inconveniently occupying.

Once I made it clear to both Ms. More Than One Item and ______, the woman "helping" me, I'd be staying a few more minutes until I'd made a final decision, the latter proceeded to give me a very audible huff followed by a not so subtle don't-worry-she'll-be-gone-soon facial expression to the former.

I dig the industrial chic design they've created at Cusp, I've come to accept and even prefer the fact they've chosen to organize their wares by style and not designer, but frankly, because of the above-and-beyond poor service I've encountered on not one but five separate occasions, I made the decision on Saturday never to step foot in there again, free cookies or no free cookies. I'm not saying I have anything against Cusp the company - hardly - but I am saying the atmosphere in the Georgetown installation created by the overt, you're-no-one-unless-you're-someone attitudes held by the their salespeople is so pervasive and such a should-I-or-shouldn't-I-get-it? buzzkill that I'm better off just going straight from Zara to Barney's Co-op in the future. And since there's not a single item in Cusp's inventory I can't find on Bop, Active Endeavors, Pink Mascara or Saks' sites - and in some cases, for quite a bit less cash - I have no qualms about crossing Cusp off my Georgetown retail rotation.

Because frankly, I'd sooner head to Smith Point on a Saturday night than fork over a single dollar of my precious clothing budget toward the sales quotas on which the brats over at 3030 M St. seem to be so singularly focused.

More Nanette Lepore super-cuteness: