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Location: PDX, United States

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Retail Therapy

I’ve been having difficulty buying shoes lately. Last month I was told by both Nordstrom’s and Macy’s that they carried very few pairs of shoes in my size. My feet are small, but not abnormally small. I felt like that was a discriminating policy, and I told them so.

I have specifically looking for boots lately…it’s been cold, and I wanted to insulate my legs. The few pairs of boots I have found that don’t have giant fuck me heals that fit my feet don’t fit my legs, and I had pretty much given up hope.

I have felt kind of rich these past few days, thanks to a Christmas check and my kicker check. What was especially great about the kicker is that I had no idea it existed until it arrived. I thought, my God I love Oregon, then later found out it’s not annual thing. But oh well…I got it this year, and I decided to go shopping.

On Monday I was running early to meet up with a friend for a shopping adventure, and wandered into a consignment store, where I found a great dress. While I was waiting in line to buy it, I saw the exact pair of boots I imagined in my mind. I sat down on a chair to try them on, and I noticed the salesperson staring at me. She asked me if the boots fit and I told her I didn’t know yet. She told me that they were Prada boots that had originally been $600. They didn’t fit the originally owner right, had never been worn, and were $90. The salesperson told me she would hate me if they fit, and that every woman who had come into the store for the past month had tried them on, with no success. Other women in the store gathered around me see if they fit, and I felt like Cinderella when I put my foot into them. Bless Prada for having my feet and legs in mind when they made my boots. Forget the dress! I wore the boots out of the store, and within five minutes, three people had asked me about them.

I met up with my friend, and we headed of to The Dig. Maybe it’s because I’m so vocal about bad experiences with stores and restaurants that I feel obligated to balance out the negative with the positive.

Yesterday was my first visit to The Dig, and I would be their personal spokesperson. Pretty much everything there is $3-$4, and every fourth item you buy is free. I have never had the experience of finding so many great things so easily, and having almost all of them fit perfectly. It’s like they went to Goodwill, bought all the great stuff, and then lowered the prices. Plus, the people that run the stores are really friendly, but give you space. I had a nice conversation with an employee, and she brought me back to see the warehouse. I left with twelve skirts, eight shirts, and three coats for $65.

I felt even higher than I do when I run (which, incidentally, I have been doing a lot lately. Why did I ever stop? It makes me feel like a super hero, and I want to run a half marathon in the spring). It’s been awhile since I’ve felt like that shopping, and it reminded me that I’ve come a long ways from the period of my life where I was struggling to climb up the cliffs of insanity, and shopping was one of the few things I found any happiness in.



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