Shopping in the City

All of my recent dressing up inspired me to go through my closet and evaluate my wardrobe. I ended up cleaning house and getting rid of 2 garbage bags worth of stuff. Now my closet echoes when I go near it.

So I decided to go shopping, even though I can't think of anything worse I could possibly be forced to do. I have spent the last week psyching myself up, motivating myself and doing my best to prepare.

So today I went to the mall determined to walk out of there with 2-3 pairs of nice dress pants, 3-4 nice dressy shirts, a trendy pair of jeans, some new undergarment things, and if I was really on a roll, maybe some dress boots. I haven't gone shopping with a list like that in years. Sometimes when I go to Super Target I sometimes stroll through the clothes section and pick out random shirts or pants if I am in need. Which is probably why I almost always look borderline homeless. You aren't supposed to get your clothes from the same place you buy dental floss, laundry detergent, CDs and peanut butter.

I have a grown up job and while I may not always feel like it, I am at least going to start dressing like it. Today was the day. I was going to go to a nice store and spend a lot of money and walk out with full shopping bags.

I walked into the mall and immediately felt my skin crawl. I hate the smell, the way it feels, EVERYTHING. I purposely went in the middle of the day so there wouldn't be any crowds, but it's the whole environment I hate. It's fake and icky and overwhelming and AWFUL. But I pushed through, determined to get everything on my list, reminding myself that I was mentally prepared after a full week of thinking about it.

My best friend X shops like it's her job. She LOVES to shop. Unfortunately, she is busy being an almost doctor's wife in another state, leaving me without access to her extensive closet and without her moral support and tough love that I require when shopping. I did my best to channel her spirit though, picking out trendy looking things that I didn't necessarily like, knowing that sometimes when you try things on, they actually look good and saying things to myself like, "this is nice fabric."

But after 5 minutes in the store, my head hurt and everything looked the same and made my eyes blur and I was hot, hungry, tired, and totally bored with the project. I couldn't find anything I liked, and then when I did, I realized it was because I have a very similar looking sweater or pair of pants just like it at home. And while I fully believe that expensive clothes are worth the cost because they are nice material and fit well and are high quality, anything over $10 seems like a waste to me. My favorite fleece sweatpants cost about that much and I can't think of anything better, so it seems silly to buy $100 pants if I'm still going to like the $10 ones better.

Eventually, I found some very nice, very expensive black dress pants that fit like they were made just for me and made me feel like giving a presentation right there in the dressing room, so I knew they were a good choice. It pretty much fell apart from there. Besides my beloved sweatpants, my favorite pants (that I wear at least 3 times a week... don't judge, they don't get dirty sitting in an office) are a pair of chinos I bought last year at that same store, and I found the exact same pair in a different color today. I also found a cool long sleeve shirt that isn't dressy and looks like 3 others I have at home, but it was on sale and in a color I don't have. And then I was done. I couldn't do it any more. I paid for my three items and RAN away, screaming "LET ME OUT OF HERE" as fast as I could.

As I flailed my arms and sprinted out of the mall, X's voice popped into my head and calmed me down enough to ask myself, "What Would X Do?" and so I stopped and went into another store. More crawling skin, blurred vision and discomfort, but I got a really nice sweater and a dressy sleeveless thing that I will never actually wear, but reminded me of something you'd see on a TV show where women dress in business dress clothes.

After that store, I crawled, whimpering out of there, desperate to get to my car and out of the mall, promising myself no more torture. At this rate, it will take 12 shopping trips to just get the basics on my list. I will obviously die if I have to do that again any time soon, so it's not looking good for my wardrobe. I'm wearing a zip-up fleece vest as I type this if that's any indication of just how badly my fashion situation is. But I don't care. I hate to shop and will hold out until May when all of the new tee shirts arrive for the camp store and I will take one of each of those and be set, just as I did this year. Not exactly a dress blouse or anything, but I think it will pass as business casual.