It is called Retail Therapy. I do not know why. I find it rather traumatic. It is odd to think that I'd prefer hunting for my clothes. I would rather skin an animal and wrap it around myself than be propositioned by a socially nervous, fashionable stick figure with no sense of self. If I act completely retarded, as though I've never seen an item of clothing before, it seems to work well.
So, I am asked by sales girl number 1 how I am going today, in an artificial, patronising way. Perfect. Should I make up a story about a urinary tract infection to tell her? No, what does she want from me? Um, ok, avoid eye contact and she'll go away.
"Do you need any help with anything or are you just looking?"
What could I possibly need help with?
"Um, yeah, can you carry me around the shop, I'm tired of standing." Sheesh...
She goes back to pretending to rearrange clothes by moving coat hangers forwards and backwards on a rack. Hmm, every time I go to my room I do the same thing. It's so fulfilling swishing my clothes forwards and backwards in my cupboard. I know it's the method she uses to approach me, though. I am the hunter being the hunted.
On the rare occasion that I may find a garment which exceeds generic or ugly, I need to use a change room to try it on. This makes me very vulnerable sales prey. A tiny cubicle with unflattering mirrors, way to get a sale. I feel like I'm trying something on in front of the 'fat' mirrors at the Science Centre. I've never heard anyone ask for clothes that make them look wider.
"Yeah, you got anything that makes me look like a big old round circle?"
So, after it takes me 5 minutes to negotiate the garment off the coat hanger, I can hear the sales assistant lurking outside the door, sniffing around like a starved warthog. I retreat to the corner of the cubicle.
Routine question number 1: "How's it going in there, everything Ok?"
Like, after 3 decades I still don't know how to dress myself. If I emerged wearing a cardigan as pants, what would she do? I'm playing Twister with the clothes. Right foot, left armhole.
Routine question number 2: "Are you all right for sizes"
Well, I was hoping for a skivvy that would fit a giraffe but this human size one will do. Ps, I'm aware that skivvies are not in fashion at present times.
Tip: Never step outside the cubicle in the new garment. You are relinquishing any remaining control you may have. As soon as you do, enter sales assistant with saliva dripping from the mouth. They will always tell you how good you look, even if you are wearing a scarf as a tail. It is very insincere but they will tell you, and remember, you are vulnerable prey. It is at this point when I choose to empower myself and change my tactics. I select most of the clothes in the store and take them up to the counter. After everything has been rung up, I insist only on purchasing the coat hangers. You can do this too. It is most effective if you then count out each coat hanger like The Count from Sesame Street.
"That's 13, 13 glorious coat hangers! Ha ah ah!"
Perhaps, go to the butchers.....
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