TMI ALERT: I hate wearing a bra. Unfortunately, I have to wear one on a daily basis. I work in a professional office, and I don’t think that anyone would appreciate the THO I would likely be sporting if I didn’t wear a bra in my air-conditioned office. Anyway, what I really like are those camisoles with built-in bras. I needed a few new ones, and I wasn’t having much luck finding what I wanted online. Therefore, this past Saturday night, Greg and I decided to get a babysitter and go shopping.
Since we were looking for something specific, we decided that going to the mall would increase the likelihood of us actually finding it. Afterall, we could park the car once and meander into many different stores looking for the illusive bra/tank top combo. On our way to the there, we reminisced a little about past trips we have made to the mall. We both hate shopping so much that we avoid it like the plague. Occasionally, we even give money as Christmas and birthday gifts to our nieces and nephews just so that we can avoid making a trip to this capitalistic purgatory. That and we are
cheap as hell frugally awesome.
We arrived at the mall and it was jam-packed! What in the world were all of these people doing here on a beautiful autumn Saturday night? Was there an event going on? A concert? We would soon find out.
Our Quest for My Breasts
As we entered Macy’s, we started looking for the bra/tank combo. We squeezed through crowds of smiling families who appeared to be enjoying their evening at the mall. People were shopping. They were trying things on and laughing. I actually heard what appeared to be someone’s mother declare with delight, “Don’t worry, honey, if you can’t decide. I’ll just get all of them for you!” I felt like I was in some consumerist twilight zone….and I still hadn’t run across that huge concert or event yet. But I was still looking, because there had to be a reason that so many freaking people were there!
As we entered the mall from Macy’s, it became very clear that there was no event going on at all. Hoards of people were carrying what looked like dead bodies in shopping bags. Families with 3 or more kids in tow were making Build-a-Bears and riding around the mall on a miniature train. Since when did the mall become an entertainment destination? Were all of these people really here of their own free will? Was the mall giving away a cruise or something? Surely, I must have been missing something!
The Mall Wears Us Down
Although we continued to browse in each store, we weren’t having much luck. Afterall, fall and winter clothes are in season so stores were lacking in the tank top department. But we kept trying and the stores appeared to increase in their level of torture as we progressed. One store in particular, “Love Culture” stands out in my mind. It was huge and packed with people who appeared to be in a huge hurry. The store was also bright white and littered with mirrors, which made me feel as if I needed my sunglasses. Techno music blared as loud as you can imagine and lots of ugly and sloppy clothes were strewn everywhere. In this store I began losing Greg’s cooperation, and I was so overloaded with branding that I began blurting out things like, “This is what hell must be like,” and “I hate this mall and everyone in it.”
The Mercifully Yet Unproductive End
We moved on to other stores and, after an hour and a half, we never found what we were looking for. This trip certainly served as a reminder as to why we hate shopping in the first place. And, let’s face it, hating shopping helps us save money. Furthermore, is it just me, or are clothes starting to get really ugly? I’m pretty sure that I saw about 58,000 shirts and 65,000 pairs of pants and the majority of them were awful looking. Of course, as we left the mall, Greg admitted that the shirt he was wearing was from high school (15 years ago) and my black yoga pants and a black hoodie weren’t that great either. Quite honestly, I don’t really care. If I have to shop to stay fashionable, it just isn’t worth it to me. Truthfully, we are not cool…..and more importantly, we don’t want to be.