OF DRESS SHOPPING

8.9.98

    The marathon shopping spree scheduled for yesterday was not exactly a roaring success. My legs hurt from the marathon part but I don't have much to show for it. I bought a "going away" dress for the wedding. Basically, instead of crushing the wedding dress in the car leaving the reception I now have a nice, demure, white thing to wear. It's not the dress that I envisioned myself in. But, then again, this isn't the body that I picture myself in, either.

    Is it weird that I think I look better than I do? Or, maybe, I look as good as I think I do but when I look in the mirror I am disappointed. The thing is that I have always been disappointed. Before it was some sort of shame and now it's genuine disappointment. I like working out but I find it nearly impossible to get motivated. Garrrr. Life is so ridiculous.

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    I picked up Tina at 2 o'clock in the p.m. She was sniffling because her parents are moving from Anaheim to somewhere out in Texas. She is an only child so I guess the bonds must be stronger. I've never understood kids who grow up and move out of the house and then expect their parents to stay the same forever and to keep their childhood room in pristine condition. Perhaps it is due to my somewhat transient lifestyle that I fully expect my parents to change. I expect that they will put me up somewhere when I visit but not that it is going to be in my childhood room surrounded by stuffed animals. Besides, my little brother has my bed now.

    Of course, you never know what your parents will find when they decide to change your room into a den.

    First stop was the Century City Mall on Santa Monica Boulevard and Constellation. It's an open air mall which, on a sunny day, is lovely. Part of the reason I hate malls is because you lose all references to the real world and that creeps me out. We wandered through Bloomingdales and Macy's and Banana Republic without finding a thing. I've waited just long enough that the stores have thier winter stuff out which means dark, dark clothes. Oddly, it still means spaghetti straps everywhere so I guess a seasonal change only means a color change in southern California.

    Next we decided to amble over to Melrose and cruise the hobo strip. I had shopped on Melrose several years back when I was in town for the Duck's Rose Bowl. More stuff caught my eye then than they do now. Most of the stores are larger and hipper versions of Goodwill (and naturally more expensive). There was fun to be had at some of these shops but I was on a mission.

    Didn't buy a damn thing on Melrose. I found the perfect dress at Betsy Johnson but it was in the wrong size. Damn them. Damn them all to hell. Ya know, if I was a tiny, Asian girl the world would be my oyster. I, too, could be the hanger on which to drape my clothes. Damn them all to hell once again. No, I'm not bitter.

    A highlight of our trippety trip down Melrose was Retail Slut, an all-leather and chains, whip me/beat me kind of store. In the window were a couple of lashed-together mannequins holding a sign that read, "I'd rather by slicing my wrists." I laughed.

    Not to be daunted by all the crap on sale we charged over to the Third Street Promenade and Robinson's May and I finally found a dress. Actually, Tina walked out of the dressing room wearing a cute cream-colored number and I said, "Hey, that's pretty cool." Yes, we bought the same dress. Course, it's not like we're accidentally going to walk out of the house dressed like twins. Well, we might but since I hardly ever see her it won't make much difference.

    The grand finale: margaritas at Baja Cantina -- Yum!

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