Not all women like to shop and some of them are absolutely clueless when they attempt it. I fit into both of those categories, so I try my best to avoid it. However, there are times when I must venture out to do just that.
Yesterday was one of those days. I walked into a department store determined to spend a gift card that I had recently been given. I went in with a mental list of three items I needed. Rarely do I buy something “just because.” With my three items in mind, I walked aimlessly around the store searching for them.
Tennis shoes, new workout capris to replace my old holey ones, and a shirt to also replace my old holey one. It’s not that I can’t afford to buy new clothes. I just really don’t like shopping. Around and around I went, which is great for exercise, but terrible when doing something you despise.
First, the shirt. I didn’t like anything I saw. What woman walks into a department store filled with clothing and finds nothing she likes? Me.
Next, shoes. Again, nothing.
Lastly, new workout capris. Those, I’ve looked for on a couple of occasions over the past year, but with no luck. After searching the store I finally found the athletic section, which again didn’t have what I was looking for. Irritated, I walked to the back of the store determined to find something to buy.
Then, I saw them! Sleek, tight, black workout shorts/capris. They were exactly what I had been looking for. I was thrilled.
As I was going through them to find “the pair”, a 40’something year old woman walked up next to me. She showed me the nearly see-through pant-like things (remember, I’m not a shopper) that she was going to buy. She asked me if I thought that they would look sexy on her. “Umm, yes. Sure.”
With a short pause, she watched me sift through the black capris. Curiously she asked, “What are you buying those for?” My first thought was, “Does it matter? They’re for me, not for you.” So in almost a questioning response, I replied “To wear.”
With a confused expression she looked at me, then to the capris, then back to me again, and with a nice farewell she walked away.
At that point, I was confused. Why did she ask me that question, and why did she make that look? Was I missing something?
I stood there staring for an awkward minute and began to look around. Slowly I moved my gaze from the capris on the rack, to the sign that rested above them.
It was then that I understood. Being the petite woman that I am, already sporting workout attire, it was pretty evident that I wasn’t pregnant. Or at the very least, not far enough along to need maternity bottoms.
That woman was kindly trying to keep me from making a foolish purchase. Thankfully, she succeeded. Slightly embarrassed and internally laughing at myself, I walked out of the store with my unspent gift card still in hand.
A day later and again wearing my old holey capris, I can’t help but to wonder if those maternity bottoms would have somehow worked. Maybe I could have just tucked in the belly part.