I am practically naked.
Less than five minutes ago I was a respectable and fully dressed woman picking out an assortment of pretty summer dresses to try on. But those dresses are now on the only hook in the changing cubicle and my own clothes have just slid off the plastic stool and are in a heap on the floor.
My husband is enthusiastically thrusting more dresses through the increasingly large gap between curtain and wall, so my semi-naked body is exposed to all and sundry. The shop lady who stands by the door is saying, “Only six items at a time!” in a whiny nasal voice. She is clearly irritated by my husband who bounces in and out clutching more clothes and God forbid he’s now bringing in underwear and getting increasingly overexcited. This is a place for women only and he is happily oblivious to her rules. She tries harder, “No men inside sir, this is a respectable establishment.”
My necklace has become entangled in dress number four and I’m trying, in a muck sweat to free myself.
Another woman comes in with an armful of clothes and her husband, seeing a fellow male in the ladies-only section trots in smartly behind her, ignoring shop lady who is now turning purple. The other woman helps me disentangle myself from my necklace and we bond over dresses and underwear, chatting as though we have known each other for years.
The two men excitedly together run in and out of the changing rooms for smaller sizes, bigger sizes, different colours, all the while, discussing the rugby. They have a role and are apparently loving it, particularly when they find something in the sale section. The other woman and I chatter and giggle as our husbands enthuse about how wonderful we both look. We giggle all the more. A bit of flattery and we’re handing out the credit cards without a care in the world.
Shop lady tries and fails to give our husbands different coloured plastic tickets with the number of items that she thinks we have as yet another floaty, whispy dress flits past her on a clothes hanger. She is now not only purple, but spluttering.
Finally, with our bags of newly purchased items, we happily thank shop lady profusely for her help. She purses her lips and gives a little derogatory sniff in our direction as she turns to her next customer. “Only six items madam! Them is the rules in this establishment.”
Katie.
Do you love or loathe to shop?
Hahaha I bet she was giving that snorting heavy breathing as well. Hate shopping at present as to chubby, chub so do it online so I can try on at home 🙂
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Yes, doing it at home is far nicer!
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And yes, there was much snorting and huffing and puffing!
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Sounds like quite the adventure! These days I avoid shops like the plague and do most of my shopping online instead.
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Oh I wish I had your sense! I loathe those tiny cubicles and the lighting is always awful so I look even worse!
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I hate that too. The lighting either make a your cellulite look even worse or they have those sneakily tilted mirrors that convince you your skinny. It’s a real shock when the next shop has normal mirrors and you suddenly realize that all the clothes you bought in the last shop now look ridiculous on you!
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Ha! Yes, they very kindly put in mirrors so that we can see what the back of us looks like, but frankly when almost starkers, I don’t want to see! It’s not a pretty sight!
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I know. My bottom has headed southward. Need to get back on my bike!
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I guess I can speak from experience and say that you’re in the most perfect place to cycle! My bottom is not only going south, but is rather wibbly wobbly too … not a pretty sight. 😳
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There is still hope then! If it wobbles it can be banished!
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Absolutely! 😂
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I shop in a shop, so I can try on. But it’s not often I shop. But no bad experiences.
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I’m so glad! I seem to have all sorts of dramas in shops. Sometimes I think I should just stay at home. Katie x
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I hate the way that clothes shops always have the fitting rooms near the ladies undies area. One gets suspicious looks whilst waiting outside for the other half to try things on. And dare not wander off because you can guarantee she will the come out requiring an opinion (which she will ignore, so why does she ask?).
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Ha! Oh I sympathise enormously! I think it must be very difficult as a man shopping with us women. We traipse around endlessly and so often come away empty handed and rather grumpy, complaining that the clothes have all shrunk! Hope you’re well? Katie x
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I prefer online, try on at home shopping, much easier! x
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Yes, I’m beginning to think you might be right! X
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So funny Katie, I am not so keen on shopping do find the assistants unhelpful bring items they think you will like, and usually say I do not like the colour. I find many seem to like negative colours and I’m rather a pastel hues. Good for you and your hubbies getting on with what is important getting the dresses right.
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Colour is crucial isn’t it … I’m very grateful that hubby enjoys shopping as I tend to dither rather a lot and simply can’t make up my mind. I love the thought of your pastel hues – beautiful.
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Pleased you care about colours, great your hubby enjoys your cloth shopping a rare quality among men.
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I loathe clothes shopping. I’d be waiting outside on my phone, drinking Diet Coke 😞
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Oh dear, I do hope if your wife needs your opinion she doesn’t have to come outside the shop to find you? She might get in trouble, particularly if trying on underwear… 🤭.
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Oh I sneak more clothes in than the tag they give you. After asking for other sizes, or going out semi clothes to grab other items, often the staff give up checking. I have to be in a very good mood to try clothes on. Trouble is that also leads to spending!
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Ha! Yes it does! And the problem I find is when I’m broke, everything looks even more lovely; yet when I have few pennies to spend I can’t find a thing!
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Do I love or loathe to shop? (definitely loathe)
Have I ever posted about it? (no!)
Do what you love doing Katie, shopping was never my favorite
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In truth, shopping is not something that I do very much, so it’s a bit of a novelty! I think there are a lot of men like yourself who loathe shopping 😀. I totally understand why!
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My goodness, the bane of my existence during shopping is when the fitting room employee only lets me take a specific amount of clothes into the stall. What’s the point of that?
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Exactly right! Counting out all the clothes before going in with only six! Hopeless if I’m trying on jeans … I need to try every style in about three sizes!
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