This year, I’m trying something new. I’m going to do/wear whatever I need to in order to stay warm. That’s right Fringelings, I am going to blow the dust off my change purse and go with the warmest, not the least expensive. I say this every time I need to get new winter gear, but this time I mean it.
There’s a pair of boots I’ve been eyeing for three years, super waterproof and warm but silly overpriced. I finally found them online in a size sort of close to mine (in August) for a greatly reduced price and bought them. They’re a silly color. Have I mentioned the ugly factor? And they are *gasp* flats. But they are warm.
I researched the warmest winter coats. Yes. Research. I’m an obsessive lunatic, remember? Found the perfect coat two years ago. It’s been discontinued and isn’t for sale anywhere. Ok, found the second best one. More expensive. After two years of watching, I accept that this brand never goes on sale, doesn’t matter where you buy it. Never seen it at any of my usual discount haunts. Two weeks ago I dragged Husband to a fancy department store I haven’t been in since my pre-children days. Found the coat, tried it on. Very, very warm. And ugly. And expensive. Now picture Husband’s face when I said, “okay, let’s go home.”
“Aren’t you going to buy it?”
Pfft. He must have me confused with someone else. I have to think about these things first. It’s only been two years since I started watching it online. Come on, a lot of money for an ugly coat? Much angst is required. Plus, then I stopped at another section of the store and tried on another coat. $10,000. For a coat! Still, fun to put it on, and it gives me a giggle every time I think of the lewd joke Husband made after we left the store. He’s the king of deadpan.
Ok, it’s getting cold. I’m ready. Still, no way I’m paying absolute full price for anything. If I opened a credit card account in fancy shmancy store, I could get ten percent off. Better than nothing. Back to the store we went, in between dog walks yesterday. Guess what I forgot? These fancy stores only buy a few pieces of each item. None left in my size or the color I wanted. Pretty sure Husband’s head was going to explode if I didn’t Buy. The. Damned. Coat. The saleswoman found one for me in another store across the country, and is going to have it shipped.
Now I didn’t dress up to go shopping, or put on makeup. This was a quick run in between picking up dog poop, come on. It isn’t a fun day out for me, it is a necessary
torture evil errand. Plenty of time for the sweet saleswoman to chat while I filled out the credit card thingie and then she arranged for shipping. Idle chit chat about how quickly those coats sold out, especially the smaller sizes (not as small as I used to be). Why the smaller sizes? Well, because we small Puerto Rican women love this particular coat. Hmm. For the record, the saleswoman’s accent was decidedly East European. Have I ever mentioned that Husband is in sales? Has been since forever. He is an excellent sales person, always calm and friendly-but-not-too-friendly, never let’m see you sweat. Did she just say? Why yes, yes she did. After 8000 years of being friends and then being together, this could be the first time I’ve seen Husband look shocked in public, in front of a stranger. Shocked to the soles of his Dominican feet.
Before we could fully process this, the saleswoman helpfully, generously let me know I could get ten percent off of anything else I’d like to purchase that day. Pause for a deep and meaningful look, complete with raised eyebrows. “Anything. Even cosmetics, you must need some.”
I don’t know why shopping isn’t more fun.