**It's very difficult to concentrate on writing when Dora the Explorer is playing in the background. Please excuse grammatical errors and occasional curses and expletives.**
Yesterday I tested out a new indulgence: the personal shopper. Those of you who have been reading for a while remember my wailing and moaning about trying to find some new clothes for my trip in June. I hate shopping for clothes. In recent years, I've become almost an exclusive catalog or on-line shopper. This purchasing style doesn't lend itself to my bad habit of waiting until the last minute to find the skirt for the wedding, the suit for my parole hearing, the cocktail dress for a night out on the town, etc. I needed help.
The Night Writer came through for me: his daughter is a mall diva who has done great things for a hard-to-fit younger sister and her mother, not to mention her own closet. Would I be interested in using her talents to remedy by troubles?
OH YEAH, as the red pitcher of sweetened, cherry-flavored kid nectar would say.
So I hired a personal shopper. I will call her Mall Diva (MD) unless she prefers another moniker. And I can't believe how much fun shopping can be when you're with an experienced patron of the department stores.
When I look at twelve racks of miscellaneous clothes jammed tightly together with the banner "50% Off!" my eyes glaze over and the thought of trying to navigate through the quagmire of linen blends gives me a headache. MD dives in with the enthusiasm of a hound chasing a fox through the thicket. And she emerged with gem after gem. All I had to do was stand there and give each piece the thumbs up or down and try on the approved list.
This is not to say that MD didn't have her work cut out for her. I came out of a dressing room to model a tank top. MD approved the color and we discussed what kind of bra would work best with the small straps, and then she very kindly suggested I go back in the dressing room and adjust the tank, as I had it on backwards.
We left the mall with two big bags. My wardrobe is starting to look like it belongs to an adult. Nothing I bought yesterday looks like it could be worn to the gym or advertises a tourist town seafood restaurant.
I can't wait to go back. I may even let MD talk me into buying something pink.