Help, I'm Shopping Challenged

Recently, a good friend and I went out for a much needed lunch, girl-talk and shopping. Neither of us are enamored by finding, trying on and purchasing apparel, but we were on a mission: to buy clothes that didn't say beaten down mommy all over them.

Looking through my closet, deciding what colors were lacking, I sadly noticed a trend. T-shirt after boring solid t-shirt stared back at me from the rack. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my t-shirts! They're soft, comfortable, inexpensive, quick to change once you're spit up on or marked with crayons, good at covering up my...ummm...lumpiness (no, I don't have a disease, just two C-sections and not losing the added pounds have left their marks), and most importantly, they're IRON FREE! Ah yes, t-shirts, a mommy's best friend. But enough is enough, how many different shades of blue could one have in the same style shirt before the fashion police show up at your door? Uh oh, I hear sirens.

So off to the store I go, supportive friend leading me by the hand, determined to NOT buy yet another t-shirt. We take a huge leap and head to Coldwater Creek. As I peruse the racks, I start thinking I need glasses. My mind boggles, "Could this be right? Surely, this is an error. Really? $59 for a simple, mostly cotton blouse? But it's not even silk!"

My fingers quickly grab nearby price tags of different blouses and pants as I try to grasp the fact before me: these ARE the actual prices! I'm sweating, my breathing is erratic, and my head is spinning. I look up to see if others are also in shock. No, everyone else is happily, nay, gleefully selecting item after item. All those years of shopping Target have definitely molded my sale/clearance priced mind.

"I can do this, I must do this," over and over I tell myself. My little pep talk begins to take affect, and I choose a couple of blouses and pairs of pants to try on. A vulture saleswoman quickly offers a dressing room to store my finds until I am ready. Slowly, my friend and I make our way through the store. Everything is beautiful, I really like what I see, but those prices! And then I see it, a white blouse that screams, "TAKE ME HOME!"

I gingerly pick it up and nervously look at the price tag...$69. Too late, I'm in love. If it fits, if I look good in it, it's MINE...MINE I TELL YOU, ALL MINE!

We are greeted at the dressing room entrance by another overly eager vulture saleswoman. She asks our names to find our rooms. My friend is whisked away to a room as I stand at the ready to try on my beautiful blouse. The saleswoman comes back to me, scratches her head and asks, "What is your name again?"

She quickly looks at the post-it-notes identifying each room's customer, sheepishly walks back and tells me, "I am so sorry. I thought you had left the store, and I put everything back. Tell me what you got and I'll go find them."

I tell her what I can remember, which isn't much after the whole get-use-to-the-pricing trama. This actually is a lucky break. Since she screwed up, I feel the need to only buy the blouse. Sure, I'll try on the other stuff, it will be my exercise for the month day, but the white blouse is the only thing I have to have.

I'm escorted to a room and try on everything. Funny thing, the only article that actually fits is the blouse. Hmmm, a case of predisposition? Next door, my friend is having lots of success with complete outfits, no less.

We go to check out. The sound of my purchase...cha-ching. The sound of my friend's purchase...CHA-CHA-CHA-CHING!!! I am happy. I have spent a wonderful afternoon dining, shopping, and most importantly, giggling with a friend. There is a lovely white blouse hanging in my closet, ready for the next date I have with my husband or girls' night out. I think I'll wear it with my, ummm, my sweatpants, ummm, my denim shorts, ummm, my knit shorts, ummm...oh for Pete's sake!