OK, so there was only one Chopin Trip this weekend (a marvelous hour of practicing the B-flat minor Nocturne). The other is a clever play on words. My sister Mu and I went on a shopping trip.
As I have complained before on this blog, I have no clothes. No decent clothes. I hate to shop, so I generally end up wearing the same old moth-eaten clothes from ten or more years ago. Yesterday, for example, I wore a navy blue Georgetown University sweatshirt that I bought in 1986 on a ROTC field trip to Washington, DC. "St. Elmo's Fire" was all the rage and everyone wanted to go to Georgetown. So I knew I looked cool in my sweatshirt.
Now the print is all faded and peeling, and the navy blue has actually turned into a sort of muddy gray. But I still wear it all the time.
I wear similar clothes to work every day. I really needed to go shopping.
So, Mu and I met at the Asheville Mall on Saturday, armed with cash and a debit cards, prepared to do some damage.
I really think Mu is jealous of me. Why? Because she laughs at me! They say that, when someone laughs at you and makes fun of you, then they're jealous. So Mu clearly must be jealous.
Perhaps she is jealous of my ghostly fair skin (she has an olive complexion and always looks like she just spent a week on the beach). Perhaps she is envious of my petite 5'2" frame (she's practically a giant at 5'5"). Maybe she is jealous that I have a photograph of Gilligan in my office and she doesn't. I don't know. But it's gotta be something. 'Cause she kept laughing at me when we were shopping.
I know. She is jealous of my powers of astute observation. That's it. Because she would always laugh whenever I made an observation. And my observations were always on target.
For example, while we were shopping at Belk, I noticed lots of bold striped turtlenecks and shoulder-padded blouses. So I made an astute observation:
"You know, Mu, I think Eighties fashions are coming back into style."
That's when she cracked up laughing. She couldn't even tell my WHY she was laughing for the first couple minutes of hilarity that she was obviously experiencing.
Apparently, according to her, Eighties fashions have been back in style for a year or two now.
I thought I'd made an astute observation. I did, didn't I?
Then, when I tried on a pair of pants, I complained that they didn't come up high enough.
"Mu, there is obviously something wrong with these pants," I said, wading out of the dressing room. "It's not that they're too long; if they would just come up to my waist, they'd fall to the right place just below my ankles." I yanked and pulled, but the "waistband" of those pants weren't going to go any higher than mid-hip. Meanwhile, my feet were swimming in an ocean of bell-bottom fabric.
Mu laughed at me. Laughed and laughed and laughed. Do you ever feel like you're Rain Man and the rest of the world is Tom Cruise? For a moment, that's exactly how I felt. She explained that that was how the pants were supposed to fit. So my underwear is supposed to show, and the skin of my hips are supposed to hang over the "waistband." Right. No, thank you. So much for Eighties fashions being back in style. Oh, how I miss the days of high waistbands and tapered legs.
Then, we were at Eddie Bauer, and I saw a huge picture of a good-looking guy with brown hair and blue eyes.
"Hey Mu, that looks kind of like Rob Lowe." Another astute observation, in my opinion.
She cracked up laughing again. This time she got tears in her eyes. Oh, the hilarity. What is it with her? Is she THAT jealous of me?
Apparently, there was a large caption next to the picture, saying that the person in the photo was, indeed, old Sodapop himself, Rob Lowe.
Well, how was I supposed to know that? I was quite proud that I'd identified him correctly.
Poor Mu. So jealous that she has to resort to laughing at me. And I know her tears of laughter were actually tears of envy.
I tried on a million hip-hugger pants, weirdly cut striped dresses, and shoulder-padded blouses. It was not the most successful of shopping trips. I have a size 2 legs (length-wise), a size 4 waist, size 6 thighs, and size 8 hips. Plus, I need petite sizes, which narrows my choices at any store. It makes it very difficult to find clothes that fit. And I'm not even going to begin talking about the unsuccessful hour I spent in the dressing room of Dillards' bra department.
So today I'm wearing raggedy stuff that I've owned for half my adult life. Ah yes, my inimitable fashion sense never fails me.
I'll bet Mu is jealous of that, too, knowing her. She's probably laughing right now.
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