Mamas and papas as I’ve mentioned before I’m a guilty shopper who hates malls and searching for bargains. I like to get in and get out. But a girl has got to cover herself, so I hit the stores once again.
Anyway, the 20 something year old sales lady obviously didn’t think much of me when I entered the boutique wearing my Johnny Cash inspired outfit. A black t-shirt, and black Target purchased yoga pants that I cut off because they were too long. My outfit was spotted with lent, string, dog hair and various kid-related leftovers.
In a way, I can’t blame her for being a little snooty. I was also sporting what looked like an electrocuted squirrel on the back of my head. Bushy, wild and sorta frizzy. I happen to call it a pony tail. (my only option after going to bed with my hair wet.)At least my handbag was nice.
I hadn’t planned on shopping. But I was dying from the heat in my “all black” outfit and decided that maybe it was time to get something that wouldn’t make me melt in the hot Texas sun. Besides, the stores were right next to the muffin shop and I definitely needed to stop there.
I asked the sales chickie if she had anymore Izod polo shirts. She just cocked her head to the side and looked like a confused Labrador.
“A what?” she said.
“An Izod. You know like a golf shirt with a little alligator on the front.” I explained.
“OOHHHH. But.. um … I uh.. hold on.” She mumbles while disappearing behind a velvet curtain.
Is she going to consult the Great Wizard of OZ I think to myself.
She re-appears to tell me that they haven’t carried those in “some time.”
Clearly I need to visit this store more than every other year.
“Oh well. I have a few minutes. I’ll just see if there’s anything else that’ll work.”
I stress the word “work” because at my age you just want to find something that covers all of your jiggly parts and shows off your good parts. Finding it in your size and color is a bonus. Finding it in your size, color and on sale is a miracle.
I start by scanning and then checking prices. So far, so good. The shop is near the local University, so it’s stocked with somewhat reasonably priced clothes. I want a bargain! But realize I might as well ask for the moon.
I feel “too old” for the trendy clothes after asking for clarification on whether some of the items are shirts or dresses.
“They’re dresses… but really it depends on who you are and how you want to wear them.” she says.
The “dresses” she’s referring to could only be worn if you’re one of the following:
A) young, thin, pretty, not wearing underwear and don’t mind showing your goodies
B) are a toddler wearing bloomers with your name embroidered on the butt
I am neither one of those.
“I would wear them as shirts.” I confirm.
“OK. I’ll see if I have any of them in large,” she quips.
Thanks for the confidence.
I grab the mediums and hope for the best. She ignores me while I try on the clothes. I decide she’s getting paid by the hour and has zero compassion for the fashion clueless.
I pull, tug, squeeze, zip and slide into the items one-by-one. One makes me look like a kangaroo w/ ruffles, another like a table cloth, the rest will require the constant camouflage of a spray tan.
I consider having one of the on-sale “dress-shirts” altered, but decide it’s not worth the extra cost.
I finally leave with one shirt and two tube top bra things to wear under my clothes. (a lady needs to keep the “girls” harnessed y’all.) I struck out the sale items. There’s a reason they’re on sale. Nobody wants them.
I move on to the next store and buy a pair of flip-flops (in my size and on SALE!) and a REAL dress that meets my requirements. It’s work, dinner-with-friends and church appropriate. Plus it’s in my budget.
I also get excited when I discover that a pair of earrings, I’ve admired for sometime, are 50% off.
I’m done in less than 30 minutes and feel pretty good about my purchases. I make a mad dash to the muffin shop to get my iced tea and treats for the kids and hurry home.
Ahhhh. Now I can give my tired, old, hacked-up Johnny Cash yoga pants a break. At least for one day! But my “squirrel-tail” pony tail still needs some help.