Shop til You Drop (Dead of Shame)

Women shoppingChoose your shopping partner wisely

My best shopping tip: never go shopping with anyone who is slimmer, wealthier or trendier than you. I did this recently and there is nothing quite so soul destroying.

I will admit, it’s not difficult to be slimmer, wealthier or trendier than me – many people fall into this category – but this particular friend is way ahead of me in all of these areas. Embarrassingly so.

The shopping trip was an impromptu one on the way back from somewhere else so I had no opportunity to lose weight/become richer/attend London Fashion Week in preparation. It took place at the York Designer Outlet, whose designer shops I’ve never ventured into due to my fear of the withering looks I always anticipate from the shop assistants (think Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, though more because of my size and lack of fashion sense than being a ho). What it meant was I spent the whole trip a) pretending to look through the rails of shops such as Reiss as if I expected to find my size b) trying to suppress my natural reaction of ‘£90 for a pair of sandals???’ in Paul Smith and c) attempting to pick out items based on this season’s trends rather than what will cover up my muffin top. I don’t think I fooled anyone.

Small consolations

To give my friend her due she did humour me, even saying she understood when I rejected a dress I’d optimistically tried on, because it clung to all my flabby bits as if spray mounted in place (no longer an option now I’ve given up on Spanx!): with the greatest of respect – SHE HAS NO IDEA! And she even tried to make me feel better by pointing out her own body insecurities (bunions were the best she could offer on this score. Seriously).

I did manage to buy something – a pair of flip flops in the sale at Kurt Geiger (even fat girls can find shoes) and I managed to divert attention from me by mainly looking at kids’ clothes but by the end of the day it’s safe to say I felt fat, frumpy, frugal and flipping fed up.

Of course I blame my children for the state I find myself in these days. My skinny, rich, fashionable friend has no kids; coincidence? I think not. As lovely as she is, I don’t think I’ll be suggesting any more posh shopping outings again and I really don’t think she’ll fancy coming on one of mine considering my main source of ‘fashion’ is the supermarket. I am however quite open to retail therapy with chunky, skint friends with no sense of style. Any takers?…

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