Shopping trip

I’ll be the first to admit, I hate shopping. I hate shopping for myself, for others, for clothes, for household items, for groceries. I hate shopping. I think it stems from the fact that for several years I sold into the retail industry. Consequently, I was in stores daily. All day, every day. I drove from one store to another, checked in, counted stock, dealt with rude customers who thought I worked there, and stocked shelves if needed. Every day, five days a week. I hate shopping.
However, needing a dress for the upcoming wedding we are attending in two weeks required me to venture into my least favorite place, searching for a semi-dressy dress. Have I told you I hate shopping? I especially hate scouring the racks trying to find “my size”, my color and my style. Once I find something passable, I hate trying the item on. I hate how it looks in those horrible 3-way mirrors that never make you look good, only show you every angle that doesn’t look good. Bulges immediately appear, rolls which weren’t there only hours before materialize, and dresses in sizes that are actually made with one-third less material than the same size that I have at home in my closet bearing the same size tag. What’s up with that?
What’s even worse, my daughter and best friend decided to go along to help me find something….what fun. It began when we entered the store and my daughter began pointing and telling me how cute I would look in that dress, or that one, and even that one. Not my right color, size or style, but I humored her with a smile as I walked to the “women’s” sizes. I was pleasantly surprised to find several dresses that I actually liked. My daughter picked out a few and I gathered them and headed to the dressing room. First dress, size 18, wrong style, too big? Too big? Can that be right? I hung it on the left side, which I had dubbed the “no” side. Next dress, cap sleeves, tight bodice, a little hard to get on over my head, but none the less, it fit. Then I realized I should have unzipped it before pulling it on. Hmmmm… a size 16? Is that possible? I walked out of the torture booth and snuck a glace in the mirror as my daughter and friend smiled broadly. That one ones on the right side as a maybe.
Next dress, different style and color: too big. Immediately a size 14 was handed over the door; no way was it going to fit, but I would humor them. I pulled it on and walked out, hoping to get some help zipping it, knowing instinctively there was no way it could possible zip. But it did! A size 14? Hey, this trying on clothes wasn’t so bad after all.
My daughter and friend practically took over the store, grabbing this dress and that, from size 14-16, and every style, color and fabric. After about 30 dresses, (literally) the five of us (they drew in two sales clerks for the final vote), settled on two dresses for the wedding weekend and our 40th anniversary party. A sleeveless, belted, green polka-dot “Julia Roberts” dress and a thin-strapped belted dress with a tiny jacket that I would have insisted looked way too young for me three months ago. Unfortunately, the jacketed one was not available in my size, so I settled on a 16 knowing it will have to be “taken in” before I can wear it…what a problem!
Eleven weeks, four dress sizes, new shoes, jewelry to match and suddenly, shopping isn’t so bad! In fact, I might even go again -- soon!