I am such a lady…
On my recent trip to Montreal, I discovered Simons, this amazing clothing store. I got a little giddy in this place. My fellow shoppers and I agreed that we’d only spend forty-five minutes in the store, as we had a dinner at the Palais des congres to attend and had planned on visiting the Notre Dame before having dinner. Forty-five minutes was not nearly enough time. I managed to browse most of the men’s section and the amazingly-cute-but-too-expensive pillow section.
Here’s the thing: in my house, I’m the shopper. It’s not that my wife doesn’t like to shop (she doesn’t) but she knows what she wants and goes to a store and gets it. She hunts the things she needs, kills them and brings them home.
I am the gatherer, the lady (according to most of the guys I know). I love to shop and not buy anything. I will look for the same things in six different shops before I decide I don’t need whatever the item is for which I’ve been shopping. I am fixated on bags (messenger bags, backpacks, slingpacks, man-bags, murses – I have them all), shoes (I have three different pairs of skate shoes, a pair of Doc Martins, two pairs of brown dress shoes and two pairs of running shoes), jackets (black, brown, navy, and three sport coats) and hair care products (don’t ask).
My male friends all call me a lady when they realize that I’ve not worn the same jacket three days in a row. When I complain (which I no longer do) about forgetting to put on moisturizer before leaving the house, some of my male colleagues look physically uncomfortable. The best part: I think I’m beginning to enjoy making them uncomfortable.