The Shopping Myth

Girls love shopping, we love to spend our free time happily skipping around the shops, trying on swishy dresses, swinging around our bags of beautiful things and laughing with our friends as we strut down the high street.  Yeah right, if we lived an advert for tampons. I have no idea where this idea about the carefree woman shopper came from but it’s all lies.

image sources pretty woman, sex and the city

We are all familiar with the shopping scene from Pretty Woman and her happy face as she kicks ass on Rodeo Drive, but in reality if we had a billionaire offering to buy us a wardrobe full of clothes you just know there wouldn’t be one thing, not one damn thing, you would like.

Shopping in real life is a largely  frustrating experience, exacerbated by retailers inability to size consistently, a lack of funds, friends who are thinner than you, males who act as if they are being subjected to some sort of torture because they can’t sit down every five minutes and children who don’t seem to realise you have to replace the snot encrusted clothes they ruin every now and again. And would it be too much to ask for shops to actually buy curtains that pull all the way across the changing room and don’t even get me started on those communal monstrosities, do I look like freaking hippy?

Shops are too hot, too cramped and littered with hazards. Random displays of shoes and handbags, clothes on the floor and other people’s shopping make me feel like I’m on Wipeout. And the worst, the absolute bollocking worst thing, piles of folded clothes, what are hangars just too uncool these days. What the crap am I meant to do with this pile of clothes you expect me to sort through and not actually move at the same time. Don’t think I can’t see you giving me the evil eye, as if to say ‘if you dare mess up that pile I will cut you’. Hangars, for the sanity of everyone the solution is hangars.

No wonder most people are resorting to online shopping these days, who needs to deal with actual people.

My shopping trips usually end up with me throwing a strop because clothes rarely fit me. I’m only 5’1″ and this makes shopping for trousers pretty much impossible, petites look like ankle swingers but regular lengths make me look like my mother is dressing me for the next three years of school. Dresses aren’t much better, having a larger chest means that my life is in search of a dress that doesn’t show my bra when I lift up my arms.  I end up standing at the entrances of dressing rooms asking my husband if I could get away with the dress if I didn’t lift my upper arms, he tells me its fine if I want to look like penguin. Yeah hun that was exactly the look I was going for. I still end up buying the stupid dress in the hope that it will magically change in the bag on the way home and then get pissed off when I get home and it still doesn’t fit.

Ladies can we please be honest and admit that shopping actually a huge pain in the ass we cannot find a pair of trouser to fit.


6 thoughts on “The Shopping Myth

  1. I LOATHE shopping! ugh it is everything you describe… and what about those mirrors that show you your ass whilst your unchanging, there’s no hiding from it as they’re all around you. Er no thank you! I struggle on to find anything I like then they don’t have it in my size. OR they’ve swapped the style of jeans half way through the rail that looks like the pair you want on the front so you think you’ve found your size but you haven’t!

  2. I’m torn, I hate actual shopping, it always ends up being the most stressful situation and half way through the day I end up begging Mr A to take me home; then again in my current ‘condition’ where I look like I’ve stuffed a rather large ball up my top.
    How can a store say they have a maternity department and it only actually be 1 rail out of around 100, then again on-line shopping hasn’t been easy either. All the sites state you should buy your normal size as it has been designed to accommodate your bump but I have now lost count of the amount of items I have had to send back in favour of the next size up or dare I say the next size up after that! Why does it always have to be a hassle?! Urgh!

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