It's a blogging day. ;0)
This post is going to be entirely girly and not well-thought out, very not-deep and rather silly. Are you ready for this?
I've never been that much of a shopper. 98% of my clothes up until the age of... 17? 19? have been given to me or occasionally from a thrift store. Which actually has always been fun. We'd get huge garbage bags of clothes from various sources which my sister and I would voraciously rip into with all the joy and wild desire of Christmas.
At one point I needed a black skirt, really wanted one, and knew exACTly what kind I wanted. So I asked God for it and sure enough, in a garbage bag a few months later, there was the very skirt. Two similar ones, in fact.
Whatever desire I possessed for shopping was further destroyed when I, for the first and last time, shopped on Black Friday. For 10 hours. In a city were there are beautiful beaches. Oh the insanity!!
It was fun to hang out with friends, but I gained no love for lines or florescent lights. They give me migraines.
BUT very occasionally, if you can kind of afford it (or if you've already blown your budget and figure, 'what's another $20 or $30 bucks? no good, people. no good), shopping is fun. I went to Plato's Closet and got a pretty dress and necklace and earrings and chatted with other shoppers.
It's fun... clothing stores are kind of like modern day harems where women congregate and do girly things and chat about all things girly. Without the whole concubine thing.
Advice about color and style is readily given and received, and women lament the size of their feet or thighs in sympathetic (and also lying) company.
All this has made me realize that your frame of mind is critical when shopping. If you're having a crappy day, don't you cross the threshold of a store and think that trying on skinny jeans is gonna make it better. ARE you insane??
You need to go in like a queen, on the search for that lucky piece of clothing that will reveal just how gorgeous that body of yours really is. um... but not too much.
That's my shopping philosophy, anyway.
Women are so interesting when they're in herds. :)
Like at Wisdom, it is a rare bird that can buy a slice of apple pie without saying she shouldn't, asking if she should, and saying that at least half if is for her husband. I've become quite an expert on womankind from 30 to 90 from working there... it's pretty fascinating, endearing, and just sometimes a little bit scary.
Now I'm not one to be down on women. Not at all! They're a wonderful breed, and have many lovely qualities.
But I can empathize with the men who are scared off by a group of them. The noise that emanates remarkably resembles hyenas.
I just hope that as I grow older:
~My wrinkles will be laugh, not crying or frown, lines.
~I will be filled with grace, patience, and compliments for the people serving me. I get so many little compliments from middle-aged women. It's kind of sweet. I think they think I'm 18.
I vacillate from looking 18 at Wisdom to (hopefully) looking 25 or 26 when I teach. The transformation? Lipstick, a skirt, and sometimes heels. And eyeshadow.
~If I'm going to get a dessert, I'm not going to apologize for it.
~I'll wear pretty things and cool jewelry.
~I will exercise. And eat good food that includes, but is NOT limited to, salads.
~I will have amazing things to talk about and only stay the most beautiful things about my family and kids and husband.
~I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER get botox.