I believe I have mentioned that I’m not exactly a clothes horse when it comes to high fashion. I have always gone with the theory that what I’m going to wear depends on what I have in the closet. I don’t care about matching or coordinates or what colors are most fashionable. I’m okay with all this. Those who have to look at me, however, have a bit of a different opinion.
I try always to sneak out and buy my clothes on my own. I might snag an unimaginative pair of black trousers on the sly or a new blouse of lovely shades of…tan, maybe. Usually I look at bargain racks only when I shop alone because I like to think that bargain racks are just what someone not of my size and taste in clothes left behind for me to buy! After all, someone has to buy the blouse with the peculiarly shaped violet flowers and the odd pleats in the back, don’t they?
So I should have seriously known better than to go shopping with two of my cousins who DO have some fashion sense…but I didn’t. Kristi and Gail both voiced the intention of doing a little clothes shopping, so I went along.
Kristi started it. I was busily perusing a rack in one corner featuring bland blouses and tepid trousers, all marked down, when she walked up.
“Look at this beautiful shirt,” she was holding up a frothy white blouse with beautiful blue trimmings in it.
“That’s beautiful,” I agreed. “But it’s much too large for you. That’s not your size.”
“No,” she responded, taking me by the arm and walking me towards the dressing room, “It’s YOUR size.”
Very well. I could try on the blouse just to make her happy. I wouldn’t have to actually buy it, right? I got into the fitting booth and did you know those things have an open top? I had never really appreciated that before, but I did on that day.
I noticed because before I had a chance to try on the first blouse, Gail had knocked on the fitting room door. “I found this really cute top on the bargain rack,” she announced and the blouse came flying over the door.
From then on, it was as though clothes were snowing in on my fitting room, blowing in over the top of the door. I was trying on more clothes than I could possibly afford or ever find the time to wear. I kept thinking the clerk would announce that we could only have so many shirts in the fitting room at a time, but when she finally knocked on the door it was to say, “Ma’am, your cousins sent me in with these zipper shirts; would you like black, blue or red or maybe all three?”
Watching them when I walked out to model anything was pretty entertaining. If they reared back, nodding slightly with a rather smug look on their faces, I knew that meant, “Oh, yeah, I was right. She can wear red without spontaneously combusting.”
If they were to purse up their lips and twist their facial features, I would be able to interpret that too. They were thinking, “Okay, that one looks like something she would choose. It has to go.”
At the end of the shopping excursion after having tried on enough clothing to cover the poor in a small country, I finally found a selection of clothes that only set me back about two weeks’ worth of groceries.
As we were leaving, I looked over the top of my many packages at my cousins. “What do you guys buy?” I wanted to know.
“Oh, we’ll go back later to get ours,” they said, avoiding each other’s guilty looks.
“Right,” I said. It’s okay, though; I’ll get even. When I get home, I’m going to dye all these colorful clothes tan!
© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.