Let me tell you, dear reader, that legging and tight funerals are not the only things that I've been attending frequently now that I am no longer included in the little happy realm of college apparel ignorance. If you were so unfortunate as to have not known me in college, then it would be all right. You would assume that I am one that never really experienced color in clothes, let alone the fact that I love color [but mind you, they have to be TASTEFUL..well, for the most part], and not a completely depressed/indie/goth art student. I pride myself in my knowledge and love of color. I'm pretty fabulous at color harmonies if you ask me. Perhaps I'm just going through a dark phase. Maybe it's the weather. Or maybe it's due to the fact that I've been told I look 17 or 18 more than a couple times within the last few weeks, and I'm not quite old enough where this is deemed a compliment. Whatever the cause, it would seem that most of the things I buy are black...maybe sometimes gray. With little exceptions for Mr. Black's friend, Mr. Red. I suppose we will all have to wait and see if I decide that the time is right for me to look into animal sacrifices and pentagram candle burning seances. I'll need not purchase anything but a large wool oversized coat with an ominous hood! I've been getting on my mother's case for years that she has very little color in her closet, and now it would seem that I'm getting a head start for my own 40's wardrobe. That is...if any of this stuff will fit me by that time.
Since it would seem that I've inadvertently taken you on a tour of my retail-land psyche, let's head on into the fitting rooms. I promise we're almost done and I won't, that is, WON'T ask you if you'd like to open a credit account [fortunately, I don't ever have to. Which is nice, since said question is as close as a retail salesperson gets to telemarketer practices.]. There are countless times that I've given advice to women in the fitting room. Most of the time, I believe in the compliments I give [and coming from me, that means a lot.]. But how much more convincing is a sentiment when someone gushes, "OH, HONEY, that is absolutelyfabulousyoushouldgetit!!" If only I were a svelte gay with a beautiful profile wearing the perfect pair of slim leg trousers and a fabulous shirt/vest ensemble. I imagine I could do no wrong! Why is it that only the gays get to use all the fabulous words [tranny, fabulous, honey, doll, darling, etc] to strangers? Thinking about the same sentiments coming from me, it just seems downright creepy or offensive and makes my psychological integrity somewhat questionable.
So there you have it, ladies and gents, thank you for shopping with us today, enjoy your new items, or don't. We'll give you back your money in the manner in which you paid when you return seven out of the nine items you just purchased yesterday. That is...unless you've lost your reciept.
