Wednesday, June 6

What Shopping Is Like When You're Me

This can't be normal, right?


1. Wander into Aritzia in the middle of the afternoon, because my mom says I need to start wearing solids and packing patterned clothes for Paris is getting terribly annoying.

2. Find a brown trenchcoat I kind of love, but it's too big. Ask if they have it in a smaller size.

3. Walk around the store aimlessly grabbing a few sweaters and dresses, having no idea what might work well on me.

4. Find out they don't have the brown trenchcoat in my size, but can order it from another store.

5. Try on everything, and realize I can't decide because I freakishly and confusingly like it all — something that has never, ever happened before.

6. Am told by the salesperson that the Chicago store has the only brown trenchcoat left in my size in the entire country, and they'll rush deliver it so it arrives before I leave for Paris.

7. Ask another friendly salesperson if they can help me find a black dress, because hey, I don't have one, and according to every women's magazine i've ever read, that's madness.

8. Try on a slew of black dresses with slouchy sweaters, grow completely overwhelmed, am told I should try on slip dresses as well.

9. Spend the next full two hours (literally, two fucking hours) trading sizes and sweaters to lay over slip dresses, finding other sizes of slips at other stores, and being painstakingly taught by the sweetest salespeople how to layer as they stare in awe over how much time i've spend in the dressing room and how little I know about dressing myself.

10. Buy a blue slip, a black dress and an orange sweater, and plan to come back on Friday for a brown dress and the brown trenchcoat being overnighted from Chicago.


11. Try on the black dress at home. It's clearly the only thing my boyfriend has ever liked me in. Realize it needs tailoring or else it won't fit right. Panic ensues.

12. Google "West Village Tailor" five times, find out the Hong Kong Tailor Jack a few blocks away who's known for being crazy good and crazy expensive is my only option for a 24 hour turn around.

13. Run to Hong Kong Tailor Jack, have him pin my dress up for me and realize it fits completely different with the straps taken up. Make him repin it twice, realize it looks kind of uneven, have him adjust it once more and hope for the best as I hand over $22 cash.

14. Immediate panic attack initiates over the dress potentially looking like shit.

15. Get an e-mail from my friend that Aritzia's private member-only 20-50% off sale starts tomorrow. I just spent hundreds of dollars on the same clothing at full price. Fuck.

16. Crying now over the dress alterations, big scary panic tears. Why am I crying?? Won't I see it tomorrow?? Is this dress a metaphor for something else in my life??

17. Join the Aritzia mailing list to get the e-mail coupon.

18. Don't get an e-mail coupon. Call my mom, who tells me "you know what to do!" because I was raised by the most efficient shopper there is.

19. Call the store, talk to a manager on the phone about the price adjustment, explain the situation, and get an OK to come in the next day to get the discount without the e-mail coupon.


20. Pick up the black dress from the tailor. Fits a little funny, but I think it'll work.

21. Fuck, I don't own heels. I only own boots. You can't wear boots with a black silk dress, right? Good god what am I, twelve?

22. Get a message from the store that the brown dress is in.

23. Call to see if the brown trenchcoat has also arrived. It hasn't.

24. Wait until the afternoon to pick up the dress in case it comes in their afternoon shipment.

25. It doesn't.

26. Head back to Aritzia at 3pm, return everything I bought earlier, re-purchase it with the discount, and get the brown dress. Find out from one of the girls helping me earlier than someone in Chicago messed up and shipped the brown trenchcoat 2-day instead of overnight, and am told I'll know by 4pm if the jacket is in or not from Chicago. I can either run back, or have someone maybe even courier it, we'll figure it out, we'll figure it out.

27. Walk home to finish packing, since I leave for the airport at 6pm.

28. Get a phone call at 4:12pm. It's a manager at Aritzia. She heard all about my trip to Paris, and hates to be the one to break the news that the coat has arrived, but it's the wrong coat. There are no more left in the country. She will try her best to track it down in Canada while I'm out of the country, but here's her e-mail and her number and for my trouble, she'll make sure I get a $100 gift card when I come back to the store the following week.

29. Call my mom while super stoked about the fact that I now own solids, and discounted solids at that, making me a real grown-up lady.

30. Leave for Paris.

Following Monday:

31. Don't get any messages while in Paris, was expecting an e-mail on the status of the jacket, but then get a voicemail that it's in!

Following Tuesday:

32. Go back to Aritzia. Pick up the coat — IT DOES EXIST! — and put it in a shopping bag. Ask about the $100 credit. What $100 credit? Super helpful salesgirl who recognizes me by name from my dinosaur iPhone case and by how many times my face has been at the checkout counter asks a manager.

33. Manager comes downstairs, says she can't find any correspondence about it but she'll honor the $50 credit. Bashfully tell her it's for $100, and she says okay, okay, she can do that. After computer beep-beep-booping, swiping and more forms, Salesgirl adds $100 back onto my credit card.

34. Go to return the orange sweater that I never ended up wearing, and realize it can now only be exchanged.

35. Walk around the store to try and find something I like better than the orange sweater.

36. Try on two rounds of clothes, indecisively stare at a blue sweater on my body for much too long, and trade the orange sweater in for the blue sweater and a slip.

37. Come home, throw all the shit in a bag, and hope it matches in San Francisco.

38. Vow to never go shopping again. Unless it's at Aritzia.

1 comment:

Diana said...

This is amazing, and Artizia is magic.

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