Off to the well-known department store I went. I was greeted by my personal shopper. (Before the piss-taking commences, please be aware of the following facts: a) I hate shopping and so try to wrap up an entire year's worth in one appointment a year, b) I missed the girls' lesson at school when they explained how to accessorise and c) the service is free).
Now, I'm no stranger to personal shoppers, who have ranged from the tardy (Lakeside) to the extremely old and deaf (Macy's). I wanted work clothes. Not suits necessarily, but corporate wear. I think it would be fair to say I was a bit taken aback by my personal shopper's appearance. Again, before you judge me, I genuinely don't normally evaluate people based on their looks... but when that person's going to be picking out your clothes, well, I suppose it's fairly natural to hope for a similar style.
Ploggers, her head was shaved. She wore a tweed jacket with a denim skirt and bright orange tights and patent leather sandals. She greeted me with the words, "Hi Laura. Well, you're my first ever client."
The appointments usually take about two hours. This one took four and a half hours. Four and a half hours! An entire hour of this was devoted to shoes. Shoes! A whole hour on shoes! That's just madness. I will not be shopping again for a very, very long time. Apologies to anyone with a birthday in the meantime.