Retail Therapy.

So today I had an interview.
For a promotion at work.
I hold out no hope.
The last time I put myself in the ring – so to speak – I got smacked down h.a.r.d.

But you see, I had to go into work today and I don’t normally.
Then there was another meeting with the CEO this afternoon I was sort of told it would be very good idea to be seen at.
So I figured, if the young boys needed to go into a day of care for a 15 minute interview they might as well stay for a day of care.
So you see, I had several hours in the middle of today.
I know, I sort of felt dizzy just thinking about it.

Cut to Sydney’s David Jones.
The most pathetic closest equivalent this country gets to one of those delicious multistory department stores in the States.
I was not trying on clothes – still too fat, too depressing.
I was going to try and find a pair of black boots.
But then there was a shirt on sale, so I thought I would try it on.
I’m leaving the change room – the shirt was hideous – and this squat New Zealand woman with a fantastic hair cut for her curly ginger hair catches my eye.
“Tell me. Be brutal. This top? This skirt? Can I wear them together?”
The answer was no.
The top was a satiny number with a neckline I could never wear but in a stunning colour somewhere between gunmetal grey, purple and silver. With her complexion is just stunning.
The skirt was also really cool but more in a blue-silver vein than the shirt and it just wasn’t working for me.
The shop assistant came in.
Let’s call her Alexandra.
That’s her name.
I know.
She became my best friend.
She’d already asked me if I needed any help out on the floor and I’d declined.
But I’d had to hold myself in check because she was dressed impeccably and had one of those open faces to which I wanted to gush, ‘I’m at the shops, on my own, and I just went for a new job, which will make huge changes to my and my family’s life and I blah blah blah’
The New Zealander and I had this awesome session in the changeroom of her talking about her dumpy legs and me my barrel belly and how I must try on the skirt she was wearing etc.
Alexandra thought we were friends and I dare say had she not been visiting for a few days and we hadn’t just met in a change room at David Jones we may well have been.
So Alexandra said to me, ‘what are you looking for?’
To which I replied, ‘oh, I guess I’d really like a new skirt’
Fast forward two hours.
I have an entire new work wardrobe of pieces that are professional, corporate and yet have a sense of fun, that are funky.
There are blouses for Gods sake.
As in fair dinkum, girly blouses. But girly in an edgy way.
There is this jacket that is short with this collar that does things I can’t really describe except to say I put it on and my.walk.changed.
I kept saying, ‘I don’t do colour’, or ‘that will never get over these mammaries’ , or ‘that sleeve is not going to work’ and she kept saying, ‘can you just try it?’
And I would. Because her name was Alexandra and she laughed when I said I’d never looked at that brand because it was a skinny girl shop and she kept telling me how great my legs are.
My heart is still racing.
Let’s just say that if I don’t get the phone call tomorrow there will be a very large returns process.
But let’s also say, Veronika Maine, I love thee.

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