Wednesday, September 17
So there's this wedding this weekend, and, as always, I was a teeming ball of stress about what to wear. So I shoved myself out the door today, unable to avoid it any longer, and made the trek to the city for invasive oral surgery. I mean shopping. I went to Macy's, since I know no other place, found a floor with some likely apparel, and started looking at stuff. I was on my second lap around the floor, idly wondering the best way to break my own leg to get out of going, and just about to make a break for freedom when there was a fluttering wingy sound, a bright light, and an angelic voice asked if she could help me and I jumped into her arms like Mango.
Her name is Marcy and she's a Personal Shopper. She's my new favorite person. I explained my predicament and she sprang into action, bustling around the store, grabbing outfits (picking up a couple sizes of everything), then led me into a great big private dressing room where I tried on a bunch of stuff while she ran around and fetched other sizes and other outfits as I needed them. She had guessed pretty well to start, since the little number labels inside this clothing are apparently sewn on at random, and any given number can be too big or too small. I would have been a puddling, whimpering mass if I'd had to find this stuff on my own. Finally narrowed it down to a smart little suit that I will wear to every wedding, funeral, and court appearance I have to attend in the next decade or so.
Then she led me to a waiting room where the obsequious woman behind the desk offered coffee as I sat in a comfy chair and Marcy took my credit card and booked herself a trip to Fiji. I mean got me checked out. She came back with all my purchases in a nice garment bag, and told me she'd investigated discounts for me and had found that there was a 15% off deal for using the personal shopper, but there was another thingy starting Saturday where if I donated $5 to the city schools I could get 20% off, and she wangled it for me even though it's not yet Saturday.
So, to sum up, she saved me a pile of money, I didn't have to keep getting dressed and going out to find more stuff, I had help picking out an outfit I'd never have found on my own, I got to relax and drink free coffee instead of waiting for a register, I got a nice little garment bag, and I felt like a goddamn rock star. Totally baller. I guess this is what it's like to be rich. And how much did I spend on this service? Not a blessed sou. It's FREE. Unfreakinbelievable. I'll never shop again. 5:47 PM
Her name is Marcy and she's a Personal Shopper. She's my new favorite person. I explained my predicament and she sprang into action, bustling around the store, grabbing outfits (picking up a couple sizes of everything), then led me into a great big private dressing room where I tried on a bunch of stuff while she ran around and fetched other sizes and other outfits as I needed them. She had guessed pretty well to start, since the little number labels inside this clothing are apparently sewn on at random, and any given number can be too big or too small. I would have been a puddling, whimpering mass if I'd had to find this stuff on my own. Finally narrowed it down to a smart little suit that I will wear to every wedding, funeral, and court appearance I have to attend in the next decade or so.
Then she led me to a waiting room where the obsequious woman behind the desk offered coffee as I sat in a comfy chair and Marcy took my credit card and booked herself a trip to Fiji. I mean got me checked out. She came back with all my purchases in a nice garment bag, and told me she'd investigated discounts for me and had found that there was a 15% off deal for using the personal shopper, but there was another thingy starting Saturday where if I donated $5 to the city schools I could get 20% off, and she wangled it for me even though it's not yet Saturday.
So, to sum up, she saved me a pile of money, I didn't have to keep getting dressed and going out to find more stuff, I had help picking out an outfit I'd never have found on my own, I got to relax and drink free coffee instead of waiting for a register, I got a nice little garment bag, and I felt like a goddamn rock star. Totally baller. I guess this is what it's like to be rich. And how much did I spend on this service? Not a blessed sou. It's FREE. Unfreakinbelievable. I'll never shop again. 5:47 PM
