People who have never gone shopping with my sister never truly understand what horror is. Or at least my kind of horror.
Few years back, her boyfriend and I were sitting down at the “Waiting space” in Forever 21, with other guys who were waiting for their girlfriends.
He had his laptop open so that he could work on his assignment, and I was ready with a book. My sister was in one of the fitting rooms, trying on about 20 dresses if not more.
I’d ask him every five minutes, “Can you check up on her and see if she’s anywhere near to done?” He gave up after few times going back and forth to face our master.
Why does Forever 21 have such large collections? Making it so hard for customers to choose, and forever to try on the many options provided for them.
Few months back, I was a living hanger on standby in front of a fitting room. My sister would ask me, “Give me the other one,” before I’d hand her a shirt that was hanging on my arm. You got that right, my arms got clothes hanging on them, ready to be summoned by the queen whenever she wanted.
To be honest, after years of practice, it doesn’t get any easier. It’s still something I’m not used to, and I’d find myself sleeping in one of the fitting rooms while waiting.
Once, I was dying from my menstrual cramps, lying on the floor in a fitting room. It was a big fitting room, that my sister was trying on dresses in there as well, with me dying on the side. Since we were waiting for our ride to pick us up and save me, might as well try on clothes, right?
And as much as it is painful to watch my sister drag a whole winter collection into a fitting room, it hurts a lot more when she decides to not get anything.
“I don’t like anything. I’ll just come back later.”
Those are basically the worst words, which she says a lot. It’s like my hours of waiting outside are just there to waste. I probably should give more importance to my time, but then again, I only have one sister to look after.
Less severe are the words, “I don’t know which one of these two I should get.” At the very least I can go, “I’ll pay. Just get them.” And have whatever she likes on the cashier after six hours of trying on a million clothes.
The most dangerous times are always when my sister looks at her clothes and goes, “I need to go shopping again.” This happens weekly, at least.
Not that I don’t like this trait of my sister’s, because I like seeing her in different outfits. It’s like dressing up your favorite Barbie doll. Sometimes, I feel like she should’ve been a model, and it’s such a waste that I’m the only one privileged enough to look at her in different dresses. My sister is very beautiful, which makes it fun to just watch her try on many clothes.
But the time taken to get one she likes enough to buy is a different story.
The first half an hour is always fun, because I get to choose which ones I think look good on her, and talk about different body types and such. Then after that onwards to the next few hours, it falls short and I end up praying for a cup of coffee or a sandwich, before I go full mode, “Why is this store so big? Why isn’t there anything you like? Just get that shirt! Please! I’ll pay!”
And if the store is big, forget going home early. I curse stores with many fitting rooms, because I always lose my sister.
Unfortunately, there isn’t an app for “Finding my sister’s exact location” yet. I hope someone’s going to create it soon.
Sometimes as someone who goes with her to sales, it’s not all that bad. When there’s something like “Buy 2 get 1” and she can only find two items she likes, I get the free one (we split the percentages). And of course, there are always coffee places or snack places nearby a big boutique.
Now that I think about it, those places were probably built for people like me, the Shopaholic’s sidekick.