You would expect me to love clothes shopping, thrive off the buzz of the purchase and new items collected. Reality is quite the opposite, in the most frustrating ways. My love of fashion regularly does not extend to the store. Something needs to be done about those fluorescent fitting room lights and tight spaces for starters. I just come out miserable, racing for the exit to get a breath of fresh air and sunshine.
The primary factors in my hate relationship –
1. The clothes. What you want never looks good, or good enough in my head. Why, jeans, can’t you just call my name to the right pair and I walk away drifting on a cloud? Or I come in with a mental image of exactly what I want. It’s never there.
2. The worthiness. This is the greatest current battle. I am in possession of a voucher with the most significant amount I have ever had absolute freedom to spend on whatever I like. But what piece is worthy of this spend? Which constantly-dreamed-about label do I go with? I have an issue with waste of all kinds so don’t want to throw this opportunity down the drain, which just adds to the overall pressure.
3. The crazy. People everywhere, in your face, bags everywhere, change room lines.
4. It’s cold. Who wants to get undressed in this weather anyway.
So instead of coming away with a glamorous new find I bought a magazine. My easy fix without fail. Until I start my own wonder emporium stocked full with the best of the best – short-legged girls more than welcome.