Fall brings out my tiny shopping gene, but it never ends well.
I peruse the mail-order catalogs and dog-ear pages before I go shopping. I don’t want to waste too much time in those stores
which are like buffets of textile disappointment. I’ve done my homework and know what I want before I walk into Macy’s. I’m like Zooey Deschanel hopped up on hope.
But after trying on the carefully vetted threads, I walk from the dressing room, twisting right and left, trying to see myself from all angles in the mirror. I’m more baffled than an English Lit major trying to do Chinese algebra.
It’s taken years, but I’ve finally deduced the reason for my bewilderment.
The clothing promises every possibility of looking like this when it’s hanging on the hanger……
I’m not sure why those ridiculous department store mirrors reveal…..
I think it’s the lighting…or maybe I need another foot and a half of leg.