Let me begin by giving you a visual. The way I dress to shop for clothes?
- Jean shorts
- Athletic style t-shirt
- Canvas Nikes with a hole in the great toe - because you refer to it by its proper name when you're a medical biller/coder. Recognize.
- You guessed it...pink Phillies hat. This time, backwards. I had "Hat To The Back" from TLC in my head. Can we all refresh our lyrics for a moment?
"That's the kinda girl I am, don't cha know I really don't give a (darn). Let me be me for me and not what I'm supposed to be."
Thank you, TLC. I enjoy being me, and me = Sporty Spice. The looks are always priceless from the poor sales girl prowling the "Womens" side of the store. The response to my entrance is always the same. Look me in the face, look me down to my sneakers with hole (in great toe), look me up to my face, then say, "um...can I help you find something?" I'm itching to say...just once..."yes, where do you keep your collection of pink Philadelphia sports teams hats, 'cause I need one in Flyers." And no, I don't need to try that on.
I politely asked today's sales girl to just open a dressing room door and I'd take care of the rest. Seriously, why do they not let you enter and exit freely? It's an empty room. I can get into the medical supply room at work easier than I can enter a dressing room. Anyway, I found an armload of tops and went in to do battle. Tried on a beautiful top with a camisole sewn in. Love those! Went to button it and...wait. Where's the button? No button. Move fingers down. No button. What the? There are no buttons on this shirt? Nor this one, nor that one, nor these, nor those. Sales girl knocked on the door to ask how I'm doing. I came out of the dressing room to inform her that there were no buttons on these shirts. And that I'm disgusted. She just stared at me, speechless. For at least 5 'Missippi'. Rather than break into pantomime, I asked what that was all about. New styles, she said. I openly contemplated purchasing the shirts and asking my mother to sew buttons on them, but realized I couldn't slice holes in the opposite side and sew the edges. Rest assured, the queen bee sales lady entered the scene. I knew her by the evening gown that she donned, versus my sales girl's khakis and modest top.
Queen Bee informed me that the unbuttoned look accentuates certain things about me that are positives. The most attractive thing about my body is my ankles. Unless people would be so uncomfortable at the look of me in an unbuttoned shirt, thereby looking down at my feet...well, as you can see, I'm just confused by the whole concept. And anyway, I heard her cheesy line to the lady before me about this hideous shirt she came out of the dressing room with. Queen Bee said, as if accepting an Emmy, "I LOVE how that makes your eyes pop!" What. No one is looking at her eyes. That shirt looks like a giant color blind test, and I'm familiar with those from my neurology appointments. I'm not picking on the lady wearing it, I'm picking on the shirt. Millions of green and orange and red hues in the shape of...dots. I'm telling you, I saw the number 76 in it. Yet Queen Bee closed the sale. You gotta get up a lot earlier in the morning if you want to put that one over on ME, Queen Bee! And no one gets up earlier than I. Wait, did I even go to bed? Anyway.
I can't wear buttonless shirts to work. What does that look say? If I were the CEO, I'd think it said this woman is lazy and lacks attention to detail. So I had to put every last shirt away and start over, carefully reviewing all shirts for buttons. I'm a believer in the "dress for the job you want, not the job you have" mantra. Nope, can't think of a job I want that those shirts would work for.
...and if you'd like to indulge in that video, it's been found: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eo-TrSQ7QZc
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