On Tuesday I got the following text from my husband:
That text should probably tell you everything you need to know about a) my marriage and b) my husband, who immediately suggested I start shopping the liquidation sales before all my sizes are gone. He needn’t have said anything, by the time I read the text I was online shopping.
This is a shopping crisis of massive proportions. Fully ninety percent of my non-yoga clothes – and one hundred percent of my sweaters – are from Jacob . People, what am I going to do? I’ve had some suggestions of other places with similar clothing, but I just…can’t fathom life without Jacob. Their clothing was good quality, stylish, and age appropriate. I feel like I’m in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean with no oar and a Lieutenant Dan versus God-style storm brewing, but unlike Lieutenant Dan, I don’t think I have the strength to fight this battle.
You see, despite what you may think if you looked at my overflowing drawers and closet, I don’t actually like shopping that much, in that I don’t like browsing around for things. For years – YEARS, PEOPLE – my entire shopping strategy has been this: walk into mall, walk to Jacob, buy things. I always knew what size I needed, I knew what would be flattering, sometimes I didn’t even have to try things on. And now, I’m bereft. Am I going to have to go to different places and rifle through their racks, wondering what size I wear? Am I going to have to try things on, without the secure knowledge that I’m going to leave the store with nice clothes?
It’s just too depressing. Did I mention the key points: stylish, good quality, AGE APPROPRIATE? Have you been to the mall lately? I feel like my choices are now Forever 21 or Tan Jay. I may as well give up and go through the rest of my days wearing a pink velour tracksuit with words on the bum, like the mom in Mean Girls. Or maybe go straight to elastic waist “pull-on” slacks and pumps.
Speaking of giving up and falling apart, it occurred to me the other day that tending to the aging body to maintain a graceful level of beauty is not unlike being a farmer of a very delicate and fussy crop, like basil, maybe. One wrong move and it’s all shot. I was plucking my eyebrows/ upper lip/ chin, and thinking about how I needed to book a wax, and when was my next hair appointment, and I thought, what if I just stopped. What if I stopped all beauty rituals, what would happen? How long before I turn into Martin Scorcese/ Frida Kahlo/ Tom Selleck/ Bride of Frankenstein, with Yeti-like hippie legs and sandpaper hands. I’m guessing a week at best.
Well, I’m not ready to give up quite yet, despite such soul-crushing realizations. In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I will be in my room, rocking my collection of black sweaters and singing Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Either that or liquidation shopping.
I don’t even remember the last time I bought clothes at a mall or anywhere else for that matter. I do not like shopping at all.
For years, YEARS, I did almost all of the shopping for my work clothing at Ann Taylor. I knew what sizes I wore there, I knew what would fit, heck, I could buy it on line with confidence. Then, they got a new buyer or something and it all went to hell. It took me forever to find other places to buy work clothing. I’m still not over it. Long story short: I feel your pain.
I’ve always thought of Jacob as a tall-skinny-person’s store. Suspicion confirmed. I’m sorry for your loss. I hate shopping too – this has the somewhat paradoxical effect that, now when I find something I like that fits, I buy it IMMEDIATELY, no hedging, no consideration – this means I have clothes and spend less time shopping. It used to be a good system. Now I have too many clothes and should probably go back to a little more hedging and consideration.
It’s nice to have a spouse who gets you.
Nothing at Jacob ever looked good on me, which leads me to believe that you might find some good things at RW (another store beloved of my tall, skinny friends that carries nothing that looks good on me).