As I descend into my sixth month on the clothes diet, I’ve caught myself reminiscing about my last trip to a mall. My friend Tina and I were quite bored after lunch one afternoon and had some time to spare, so we ventured to a relatively new mall that was close-by, but rarely possessed anything either of us could afford. Being that I was on the clothes diet and she has been trying to cut back a little, we made a pact. We could look at all the pretty things we want, but if either of us tried to make a purchase, they would be allotted one smack and a stern “NO”. There would be no rationalizing a purchase here, nor any mindless spending.
Soon, of course, we found that this formerly extravagant mall had fallen on (slightly) tough times, allowing more affordable stores into their hallowed halls. (I might add that you can now cue Joe Jackson’s “Captain of Industry (Overture)” to play in the background of this paragraph.) Upon our realization of the mall’s new persona that was filled with the likes of Forever 21 and Anthropologie, we ran around like kids in a store that sold not just candy, but also some forbidden fireworks and other explosives. At this point, the clothing racks were flooded with echoes of oohs and aahs. Fingers were pointed at sparkly trinkets, and puppy dog eyes gleamed in the face of plumed fascinators. But all was forgotten as an apple-red tweed jacket lined with navy tartan and a portion of Paddington Bear’s soul quickly caught my canine sight, overshadowing any reflections from the other doodads. Light shone from its threads as swirling, twinkling colors straight from the opening credits of Family Affair settled upon its countenance. It was the apple of my eye, and as said eyes glazed over and my drool washed ashore, Tina sensed my weakness very quickly, pulling me aside to look at floral frocks to which she knows I would never feel betrothed. This brought up another point of conversation, a story from our teenage years.
Soon pointing a rigid finger at a bowl full of jewel encrusted, tiger bedecked rings, and glitter nail polish, Tina squealed, “Tabatha, I neeeeed these things,” mocking a former incarnation of herself who was also blinded by the light of fashion. We chortled at Tina’s quotation of that hidden and buried inner girl that had once picked up a bundle of tchotchkes in a Claire’s Accessories, making the exact same proclamation, one of need rather than desire. However, we knew deeply that neither of us had really grown out of the inane love spell that we first noted while perusing those novelties during that hazy memory of a spring evening. The little girls within ourselves would never let us forget those sparkled yearnings.
Luckily, through our wit and self-deprecating humor, we made it out of the mall with nothing but a discount Erlenmeyer flask that I had, as I explained to Tina with her lips already poised for a “NO”, been searching for over a six month period. Right now I still think about the jacket, and if I hadn’t been on the diet I know that I probably would have returned to romantically whisk it off its hanger. But I can rest easy knowing that I now have money to spend on making memories at summer concerts for the Psychedelic Furs and the Go-Gos that would otherwise have been spent on my addiction to tweed. This is at least a great solace.
Loading ...
LOOOOVE this post… And I’m so glad Tina merely pulled you aside to some floral frocks… I thought for sure you’d be getting a brisk slap as you drooled over that jacket!