And The Hunt Begins

This morning I put my second grader on the school bus, signed up my preschooler for "Lunch Bunch", and set off to the mall with the baby.  Yes, I realize I use the term baby loosely.  Shut up.

I was determined this year to expand my horizons.  Usually I go to Ann Taylor, pick a little black dress or a glittery top and black slacks, and call it a day.  This year I committed myself to going into stores I’ve never before had the audacity to enter.   So I set out this morning in what I hoped was a cute, sassy outfit with my head held high, prepared to venture where no housewife has gone before.

The first thing I noticed today was how super short everything is this season.  Dresses are either floor-length (too formal for Husband’s office event) or mid-thigh (too short for, well, anyone over the age of 18 and a size 2).  This severely limited my choices, right off the bat.

My first stop was Bebe.  There was a dress in the window that looked interesting.  I noticed it last week, but today I forced myself to cross the thresh hold into the realm of throbbing music and uber-chic salespeople who looked at me like I had accidentally exited at the wrong station.

I felt decidedly out of place with my baby stroller and my cute little magenta flats, but I was determined to persevere.  I tried on the dress from the window and looked much like a sausage in its casing.  And it didn’t smell much better, frankly.  I don’t know quite what to make of that.  So I decided I’d had enough of that store and moved on.

I was too intimidated to enter the Juicy Couture but I swallowed my pride and decided to give BCBG a try.  I’ve tried their shoes before at Nordstrom, but I’d never tried on any of their clothes.

Unlike the staff at Bebe, the salespeople at BCBG were delightful and seemed to think Baby R was the most enchanting child they had ever encountered.  This, my friends, is the way straight to my heart.  Act like my kid is adorable, and I’ll love you forever.  So I tried on half the store.  Which was quite a feat, I’ll tell you that, since the very child-unfriendly dressing rooms were entirely enclosed with curtains.  Multiple curtains.  With multiple slits.  A 2-year-old’s dream and her mother’s undoing.  It’s a good thing my modesty flew out the window during childbirth.

The salesgirl kept bringing dress after dress after dress.  Naturally I found the perfect thing — for a mere $398.  And you know what, it was worth every penny.  It was a smokin’ hot dress but entirely age-appropriate, gorgeous, and unlike anything anyone else would be wearing.  Unfortunately I can’t find a picture online to save my life.

Any-Who.

Four hundred dollars is completely out of my price range for a Christmas outfit, or for a car for that matter, so I left BCBG empty-handed.

I wandered around Nordstrom and Macys, but departments stores frighten me.  I never know where to begin. 

So guess where I went next.  Just guess.

Yep, good ol’ faithful Ann Taylor.  Where I tried on the red blouse, which did nothing for me.  And so I bought this.

Pretty, classic, versatile . . .  and pretty much a variation on the same thing I wear every other year.  I’m hopeless.  Maybe I can spice it up with a really great shoe.

Hm.  I feel another shopping excursion coming on.