I don’t like shopping for clothes. There. I said it. I’m not entirely sure why, either. Perhaps it’s the label victims wandering around stores – the people that have dressed up to go shopping. Perhaps it’s the people that regard going shopping as a fun activity in and of itself (I can’t imagine anything more idiotic). Or perhaps it’s the people who walk into a shop with no idea what they might buy – aimlessly wondering what they might waste money on next.
It occurred to me a couple of days ago that it’s been some time since I last refreshed the “smart casual” department of my wardrobe. Did you notice my use of language there – I made it sound like I have a vast wardrobe with multitudinous choices for each day’s apparel. In reality I have several badly organised drawers, a quarter of a wardrobe rail, and whatever is in the clean washing basket that hasn’t been put away yet (and doesn’t usually get put away before I wear it again).
The last time I bought work clothes was for a trip to Scotland for two weeks, about two years ago. I think that time I bought khaki jeans, t-shirts, and long sleeve shirts. This time I bought charcoal jeans, t-shirts, and long sleeve shirts. At least I’m predictable, right ?
I had our eldest daughter in tow as a rear-gunner. We swept into the biggest department store in a nearby town five minutes after they opened their doors, and twenty minutes later I had filled one of their gargantuan bags with clothes. It’s probably worth noting that I was working to a mental list, so in the manner of most male shopping expeditions it was a case of “get in, get the stuff, get out”. Only I hadn’t factored in Miss 16.
It took twenty minutes to find several pairs of jeans, trousers, shirts, t-shirts, socks, underwear, and hoodies for myself, and then another HALF AN HOUR wait for Miss 16 to choose a few pieces of underwear, and some makeup. She then managed to pick up the one makeup container that didn’t have a bar-code – we became those people that hold up an entire queue in the department store.
I’m kind of glad we managed to get out when we did – during the time we were in the store, the number of other shoppers quadrupled. Suddenly the entire place was filled with wave after wave of unthinking, ignorant, rude, shopping maniacs. It was like some kind of zombie outbreak.