shopping notes

I’ve been shopping recently. Always an adventure, often not a lot of fun.

But first, let’s revisit a shopping trip past.

If you’ve been with me a while, you may remember The Shoes.

The golden shoes. The shoes for which the angels sang.

Alas, alas. Turns out they are not the shoes from the heavens, they are the devil’s work.

They hurt. Oh lawdy, they hurt. They dig into the backs of my heels and rip them raw. I have tried taping up my heels but they just rub the tape off and chew me up. I wore them for the second time today and went to the dentist, to lunch, to the supermarket. I was hobbling by the time I got home. Tragedy comes in so many forms. This is one. Oh, deceitful shoes, all your promises broken.

Speaking of pain, I’ve been shopping for a bathing suit, too. That’s time consuming because my ego can only stand about eight bathing suits per shopping trip. But amazingly, after trying on only about a dozen suits, I found one for the ages at Marshall’s, of all places. For $24.99. I never look for suits at Marshall’s-—I tend to spend real money on my suits--but I’ve been feeling hopeful and damned if I didn’t score on a sassy black tankini. It had its first outing last week and the consensus was that I have found a magical bathing suit. I have been running to Marshall’s all over town, now, looking for another so that I may have this bathing suit for the ages. So far no good but I have a few more Marshall's to go. (BTW, Lara tells me Kohl's has cute suits, too.)

I need new sandals, too, but I was a dope not to buy them two weeks ago, when Marshall’s and DSW were full of ‘em. Now the pickings are very slim. What could have been an easy flash of the credit card now is a quest. I mean, there are lots of sandals out there but I have needs and desires that must be fulfilled and the detritus on the shelves just doesn’t have what it takes.

By the way, is there any place more revolting than the Ross Dress for Less shoe department? Total chaos. I am convinced their associates are hired for their havoc-wreaking talents and that every night after the store closes, instead of organizing the shoe racks, they assiduously put the size 5s among the 8s, strew sandals everywhere and mismatch the athletic shoes. I also suspect the company keeps screaming babies on the payroll because there’s always at least one. Every time I go into Ross I swear never to return but I always drift back.

I also need a purse. (Yes, Tom, I know. But purses go out of style, too.) I’m the opposite of fashion-forward because it takes a while before my eyes adjust to new silhouettes and I have finally come to understand that my cute little purses just don’t look right anymore. So I’m looking at big purses, even though I always feel silly with a big purse because all that’s ever in it is a wallet, a phone, a brush and a lipstick, all rattling around the bottom. I find myself apologizing to security guards who peek in and then look at me as if I’m loony.

Here's a tip: I was in Sears the other day looking for something hardware-like and discovered that they have a lot of cute cheap purses.

Y’all have a great weekend, hear? And look for me at Marshall’s.

P.S. Black and Blue at the Barley House tonight. Dude.