I avoid it like the plague. If the What Not to Wear people showed up I’d be like, “Um. No. Two days shopping? Ha. But do you want to get a drink, because I love you guys!!!” I enjoy getting new clothes, and I like to think that I put some thought into outfits and generally look well put together, but I absolutely hate the act of shopping. The walking around and trying on and fending off overeager sales associates who tell you that Yes! Totally! Of course that mid-calf length pink tulle skirt that billows looks good on your 5′ 2″-in-heels-and-no-size-0 frame!!! Because I may be fat and not look good in a tulle skirt, bitch, but I’m not dumb.
But today I really had to shop. My grandfather didn’t like to admit that women had boobs, and so perhaps showing up to his funeral naked would be inappropriate. And I have no summer funeral clothes. Actual summer (the summer you can’t get away with wearing winter clothes in summer) in Wisconsin is like three months long. I’m not investing in a huge summer dressy wardrobe for twelve weeks. I don’t go to a whole lot of formal events, so I kind of skate by with a couple of skirts and dressy pants. But I didn’t have any sober clothes that I felt good in.
(Shut up! I know that what I wear to my grandfather’s funeral isn’t the most pressing matter, and believe me, it’s not. But if I can find a skirt and sweater that make me look good, I can deal with things a lot better. I have a heart, dammit!!!)
So I went to Bayshore with Imladris this afternoon for my least-favorite kind of shopping trip- you absolutely need something RIGHT NOW, you know what you need, and it probably won’t be stocked at the end of July, and it’s a depressing need to boot. Ugh.
$300 and four hours later, I did actually have two outfits. There was some slight screaming and tears and OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW when the zipper of the perfect slate-gray skirt that I had finally found a top for broke and it broke while it was on me and I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to get out of that and oh, yeah, Banana Republic charged me eighty dollars for it. But I got out, and fixed the zipper, and all is right with the world.
In my family, deceased members have had a tendency to send credit cards to people. If they could start that for me now, that’d be awesome.