I went into the city over the weekend to shop. It was a purposeful kind of shopping. There were things that needed attending to like stopping at the tailor’s to get Rob’s new dress pants hemmed for the wedding we are attending soon, and swinging by the co-op to pick up hiking duds for the daughter. This is the year we initiate her into the way of the trail. But I only rarely shop in person anymore. When I find myself in need, I thumb the Sears catalog or go on-line, and I mainly just make do with what I have. Despite what my six year old thinks, I am not growing anymore.
While we were waiting at the mall for the tailor to finish hemming, we killed time browsing the sporting equipment and apparel chain store. There is a scaled down version of this same store at the scaled down version of the mall in the suburb closest to the rural hamlet where we live. It is one of my “make-do” shop gaps during those odd times when Sears disappoints, but this outlet was full-service, and I rushed from clothes rack to featured display items like a teenager with a credit card.
Rob kept Kat busy checking out the new bikes and the spring and summer sports equipment while I loaded up and headed for the dressing rooms.
Trying clothes on in advance of purchase has become one of those luxury items I treat myself to on the rarest of occasions anymore. When I do actually shop in person, I gage sizes or stick to items I already have and therefore know that they fit. And no, I don’t end up with ill-fitting apparel all that often. I am a pretty good, and honest, judge of my current size. But not shopping in the wild much, a woman forgets about the bouncy salespeople who without fail knock on the door when you are completely undressed causing you to attempt to jump out of your own skin as well or the lighting which seems designed to change your skin tone and distort your mirrored self in a fun house manner.
When shopping with a husband and a small child, there is a certain amount of haste involved which retards the relaxing, self-indulgent aspects of the activity, and as I commented later to Rob,
“I was really missing having a best girlfriend along.”
But when it is late March and spring is still nowhere in ready sight and cabin fever has seeped so far into the bones that it’s almost a symbiant companion, a woman will take what she can get and be very, very grateful.
This is an original 50 Something Moms post by Ann Bibby