Clothes Shopping

I have been clothes shopping recently. Now, this is not something I tend to do very much, and certainly not if I can avoid it, but I am graduating soon (hello, any fellow graduands reading this) and I don’t really know what I’m going to wear for the occasion. Yes, I know the gown will hide a multitude of sins, but there will be a point before I go to pick up the gown when I will be wandering among chicly-dressed, perfectly coiffed, sophisticated-looking people, resembling something that has washed up on a beach, unless I manage to pull off this shopping mission.

My usual practice is to wait until my wardrobe is populated entirely by tatters, and people are giving me pitying glances in the street, and at that point, I decide precisely what I want (“A light blue V-neck t-shirt” or “A black, knee-length skirt in soft material”, for example), and I trawl the shops in a single-minded fashion, with a blinkeredness and short-sightedness bordering on imprudence, until I find precisely the thing that I am looking for.

All this takes considerable time, as you might appreciate, since it is not as if all those designers out there are designing with me in mind. In fact, I would venture to speculate that not a single one of them is having even the remotest, haziest thoughts about me, as they churn out one preposterous design after another.

The ironic thing, the thing which never fails to seem like a malicious joke, is the quantity of clothes in the shops which just miss being wearable. The problem is that none of the aforementioned designers has a grandmother like mine. And I know this because if they did, then they would know these words of wisdom: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

And so these stupid, stupid designers have an apparent compulsion to take a very serviceable item of clothing, regard it thoughtfully, tut a little, shake their head, and declare, “What this top really needs is a big, floppy flower sewn on right here”, or “Only two seams, one down each side? We’ll have to fix that. Let’s put fifteen seams, all higgledy-piggledy across the front and one side. And we’ll add some ribbons, for good measure”, or “You know, all we need to do to make this top perfect is to put a lovely frill round the bottom!” or “Oh dear, that solid colour is so dull. Let’s liven it up with some splotches, some improvised-looking paisley, and a dopey-looking teddy bear printed on the front!”

This graduation is in December, and in this part of the world, you generally spend December shuffling around in scarves, gloves, and boots, with your chin buried into your chest, in defence against the wind, and your hands thrust in your pockets. Except when you are partying, that is. Because December is also party season! Well, whoop-de-doo, I’m very happy for you, enjoy the champagne and all that, but for goodness’ sake, must you overrun the shops with your sequinned mini-skirts,  your spaghetti straps, and your little chiffon babydoll dresses? I’m trying to find some serious clothes here! Something that I can wear in the snow and wind without looking like a case for medical science.

Now, I knew you would think I was exaggerating, so, just to prove my point, I sallied forth on my mission equipped with a camera. Herewith the results of my expeditions – what I believe is a very representative sample of what is to be found in the shops at the moment. (You will notice that the clothes in these pictures are all behind glass. This is because, as I discovered, if you try to take pictures in a shop, you get a large, aggressive, noisy security guard bearing down on you asking if you would like to delete those pictures. Well, I say “ask”, but the question actually goes like this: “Would you like to delete those pictures!”

It’s a copyright issue, apparently, because then you can go and put the pictures of the clothes on the internet and then… I don’t know. Something bad happens. But apparently you’re welcome to take as many pictures as you wish outside the shop, because having a sheet of glass between the clothes and the camera makes all the difference.)

                     

 

   

 

 

The above are not, I hasten to add, let’s-get-rid-of-our-summer-stock sale items. They are deliberately designed, intentionally marketed, winter clothes.

So if I turn up at graduation in a pink mini-skirt and a sequinned gold top with one spaghetti strap, or dressed as an elf, please don’t make any sarcastic comments, and just pass me a gown. Thank you.