Underground Shopper

I am by no means a “savvy” dresser. I don’t embarrass myself by showing up in jellybeans and leg warmers but beyond that I guess my fashion sense is – safe. Not too “Garanimals” and not too “Lady Gaga” – just inconspicuously ordinary. It has come to my attention, however, that my partner Ang sees me as some sort of “What Not To Wear” savant.

Exhibit A: The setting…an ass clinching cold day at Kohl’s Department Store.

Me: Hey Ang! Look at this sweater – what do you think?
Ang: Oh ughh…what is with that ropey pattern and the zipper front – looks like something an old lady would wear.
Me: Really?? I kinda like it actua-
Ang: Do they have my size?? I wear a small….try to find a small…Oh look! They have it in black too! I’m going to get it in black and this un-old lady oatmeal color! You check that rack over there and I’ll keep looking over here. Hurry! I think that woman on the Rascal just put one in her basket.

What ensued there after, was an uncomfortable display of desperation. With a renewed confidence, she went after each clearance rack one by one with calculated precision. It was a little like watching how a foundling serial killer chooses his next victim – and looks to his mentor for approval. Before long, she had in her hands the “chosen few” that she felt were worthy enough to be added to her collection. I, on the other hand, stood stunned clutching my ONE item, feeling a little dazed and confused by what just happened.

Me: Why is it you now have in your hands three of the shirts I wanted to buy?
Ang: Well you can still get them – I don’t mind.
Me: No…I can’t. We cannot walk around looking like 4 year old twins, That’s just ridiculous.
Ang: It’ll be fine – we just won’t wear them on the same day. What’s that shirt your holding – are you going to get that??

So if I had to guess – I would say that about 40% of the clothes on my side of the closet have a smaller size doppelganger on Ang’s side of the closet. I should just take it as a compliment really – I mean what’s the big deal. As long as she doesn’t cut her hair and start erasing my phone messages, what’s the harm?