Monday, January 06, 2014

Convenience and Anonymity.

I don't know why I care about clothes so much. Perhaps it's that my weekday work wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts stifles my creativity. Maybe our society puts too strong an emphasis on physical appearances. It's reasonable to say that I just like looking nice sometimes. Vanity is a regular day-to-day thing in my life, really, but for today, let's just blame it on the fact that I'm dating someone whom I find very, very attractive, and I want to show him my hot body in the best way possible/trick him into repeatedly sleeping with me.

I could go down to the mall and try on new clothes. Key word being 'could', because the downtown mall is probably eight blocks from my house, and that feels much too far away at this point. Also, change rooms. What the fuck is up with that shit? The best change rooms in the world are akin to the deepest pits of hell, when it comes to being utterly unbearable and putrid. Instead of grotty change rooms full of random clothes that people don't want after all, I sit at the cozy breakfast bar in my kitchen, on my laptop, wearing my tortoise shell glasses to show that I mean business, and taking care of any and all clothes shopping online.

I usually just shop between one of three stores, and it's any wonder they haven't sent me personal thank-you notes at this point, for putting their kids through college and buying them many a tropical vacation/sports car. You're welcome, guys.

However, all of this convenience and anonymity has an obvious price, beyond the dollars and cents, when you look into one of my three tiny closets. With a, shall we say, 'hard-to-fit' body type, online shopping is a real crap shoot. Hangers full of clothes, tags still on, lay dormant for me to figure out how the fuck to ever wear them in public. Shoes that were a little too high in person, or a little too big, or just looked way less ugly on the model, line the floors of each closet. I am on a one-in-one-out system with garments of any sort, because, yikes, I live in 600 square feet.

With two packages in the mail on the way to my house right now, it's tough to say whether or not my modern shopping system is actually working. Yes, every third item of clothing is a total dud, but at what cost am I willing to do without the bitchy sales associates at American Apparel giving me the stare-down for asking to try on a sweater? The answer, my friends, is currently sitting at the back of my closet.

~sarah p.

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