Holy Shopping

Day in day out I am basically wearing the same clothes. Not by choice mind you.
It is not that I am hostile to fashion; it is rather that fashion is hostile to me.

My body happens to be part of a limited edition, and clothes manufacturers are not interested in accommodating such a restricted market.
Therefore, when I go on a buying safari I find it extremely difficult to find garments that will fit me.

And to add to my woes, there is the excruciating shopping steeplechase.
To maximize profits, store managers have dismissed qualified salespeople and left just a few zombies to man the cash registers.
Salespeople have become a vanishing breed and a customer is basically on his own when venturing in the jungle of a department store.

Personally I hate shopping like Republicans hate freethinkers, but unlike the Republicans I have many solid reasons to hate shopping.

Let me count the ways…

When you finally collar a salesperson (hopefully English speaking), he/she cannot devote too much time to you because they are needed somewhere else.

And when you find something that you like (but of course doesn’t fit), you feel compelled to bring back the stuff where you found it, and to neatly fold it back.
I have better things to do with my time.

Sophia LorenWhen miracle of miracles, you finally stumble upon something half-decent there are the unavoidable alterations.
The discriminatory surcharge added to already expensive items.
Is this a way to treat a guy willing to splurge on new duds? I don’t think so.

Women profess to love shopping.  “I just lôôôve shopping” they coo.
How could they love being treated like canine droppings and having to pay for it?
But women (it is a little-known scientific fact) are masochists and that’s why they adore shopping.

And that’s why alas, you always see me wearing the same old faded duds.
These clothes are not glamorous, but they happen to fit me and that’s all that matters.

Thinking of it, what I really need is a shopping assistant…

If you happen to have an hourglass figure, know all the words of La Marseillaise and can properly season “escargots”, give me a jingle, I might be interested.

Alain