Wednesday, April 28, 2010

What We Need is a Montage

A Trying On Clothes With No Intention to Purchase Montage!

(If you're not familiar with this joke, please enjoy this clip from the admittedly-racy Team America movie.)


Anyway, you know how in movies people dance around happily while trying on clothes? A cool tune is playing, and they are thrilled to suddenly be...buying a prom dress, shopping with Richard Gere's credit card, or on a European Vacation couture spree.

Um, so, that sort of thing happens in real life.

Some background: I've been enjoying Anthropologie's website by morning, devouring the cute little combinations they come up with and fantasizing about them. So I decided to pop in the real store this weekend.

Oh, what a thrill! Themes of travel and seaside living gorgeously apparent in every dainty cardigan and frilly blouse. I was shopping with a smile. I think I said hello to a pair of shorts I recognized.

When I stumbled across a perfect little fluffy skirt (navy!) what more could I do than try it on? And that weird little blouse with the funny buttons and (navy!) stripes? Yes, I just had to wear them, if only for a couple of minutes!






Oh, to be in a dressing room again! To feel the thrill of...New! The huge dressing room mirror, all that space, no one aware of my existence except the attendant, and her sole purpose just...to bring me more clothes.

I think this is where the dancing began.


Seriously, I was all over that little room. The camera was flashing like mad for my personal fashion show...of 2 items.

Hey, come on, I was wearing a cool, trendy color for once (navy!) and sporting unusual buttons. It's been 4 months without a new purchase! So I had some fun.


Eventually, the attendant's polite inquiries as to my well-being brought me back to reality (and down off the little stool in the room...my, um, dancing platform).

Okay, actually, my camera ran out of battery. End of montage.

I left the dressing room with the skirt and shirt, feeling like I couldn't really give them back to the attendant after hijacking clothes and stall for however long I'd checked out of reality there.

Back they went into that little corner, re-racked and ready for someone else's show. And I wasn't really too sad about it. I guess I went dancing in a cute new outfit, which is quite enough for now.

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