Ok, so this is one of the reasons I hate clothes shopping. I don’t buy new clothes often, but yesterday I decided I needed a non-black sweater that I could wear at writers’ conventions and other casual business environments. I say non-black because black matches with everything, which means I don’t have to get as many outfits. At least that’s my justification but in reality it’s because I missed an important class in Girl School and never learned to enjoy clothes shopping the way many other women do.
Yesterday, I decided to make use of a shopping card that Jeff got as a Christmas gift from his workplace, but kindly gave to me. Anyway, another reason I hate clothes shopping is because so many women’s clothes seem overpriced to me. However, I’m aware that fashionistas could say the same about the price of books or original art. In the end, the stores charge what people are willing to pay, else they’d go out of business.
Anyway, after much agonizing at Aritzia in Toronto’s Eaton Centre, I finally decided on a cotton-cashmere sweater and wore it to the Max Raabe concert at the Royal Conservatory last night. When I went to put it away, however, I was surprised to see a big swath of ugly pilling in the lower back. It looked as if I had worn the sweater for years and sat on sandpaper every day. Ugh.
And this brings me to another aspect of clothes shopping I hate — buyer regret. Now I have to go back downtown just to return the sweater. I called Aritzia to explain what had happened, and asked if I could return the sweater. The woman on the phone was immediately guarded, saying there was no guarantee, but that I could try bringing the sweater in for her manager to examine. Sigh. This means at least 2 hours out of my work day but I don’t see a way around it.
I hate HATE wasted time.
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