I don't have a picture for this blog. I looked for a picture. Apparently no one else suffers with shopping. How odd. Wait... this one should do...
Now I can do online shopping. I think that is, in all probability, because it's not here.Otherwise, besides shopping for food (as opposed to starvation), I avoid shopping like the plague. Here's why....
I had just finished with the first class of the day. This was in town. There wasn't enough time to go home, but there was too much time to go on to the next student. I have put off buying some necessities for years, so I decided to pull myself up by the bootstraps and just do it. I needed some underwear and socks.
First stop, a shop where I've had success before. Should be a breeze. I looked in. Two men manning the cash register and no fitting rooms. Here they think nothing of trying on bras over their clothing in full view of the street. Not for me, thanks, so I turned my attention to the 'socks' or foot-stockings. I hate pantihose, so I wear ankle-highs. The "Posso ajudar?" came, as expected. "Yes. I'm looking for the thicker stockings, as I walk a lot and want them to last longer than a day at a time." He took me to the thicker stockings. Great! Then I looked in dismay at the white, black, maroon and dark brown colour range. "Don't you have beige or something at least remotely my skin tone?" I asked, not expecting much, as this is, after all, Brazil. "Oh but this brown would look lovely!" Uh... yes... I looked down at my pale tan shoes and even paler skin tone *sigh* He spent ten minutes trying to get me to buy the brown. I must point out at this point that the brown was a dark brown... very dark. No thanks.
I kid you not. The first time I went into a lingerie shop in Brazil, they were quite nonplussed that I refused to try on my wares in the front shop. I watched a woman try on a corset over her dress with hysterical laughter building up. It took all my self-control not to gawp at her.
I gave up and went to the next shop, a lingerie shop. This should be fun (not). A friendly girl asked if she could help. I explained the bra sizing I'm used to... the kind where the cups are different to the backstrap, so you can get something that actually fits. Here, if they don't try to sell you small, medium or large, they sell size 20 through to 54, but with no cup size. The girlie looked confused, then looked at me, pulled out a bra and said, "This should fit you beautifully." I looked dubiously at the offering. I think not, but I decided to prove a point. I went in, poured myself into the synthetic scrap and said, "You'd better look at this." It was patently obvious that it wasn't even a remote fit. She tried one size up and one size down, then a different make. No go. She called the owner, who grimly (she was a rather grim lady) advised me to try yet another set. Nothing doing. "But this one will fit you!" she demanded. Oh no it wouldn't. I peered at my squished appendages. She thought it looked just fine. I ended with saying that, believe it or not, I know my body and I know just what would happen if I tried to move in those. The lack of shock absorbers on most buses would leave me embarrassingly compromised.
*Note... this blog was never finished. I'm going through my old blogs and decided to publish it, as it had me chuckling :)