I’d like to confess, publicly, that I don’t like shopping (I haven’t read 50 shades either. I’m failing as a modern woman). I’ve never been very good at it, but every so often, I like to pretend otherwise, so I go to a shop, hate it, then don’t go again for another 6 months. (Obviously this excludes food shopping. I’m not starving my children or anything).
Last week was a prime example of this. I went to London with the husband, primarily to go to some of the museums. We planned to go to a couple of shops in the morning, then spend the rest of the day being all cultured and pretending we know something about art. First stop, John Lewis on Oxford Street, resulted in a shop assistant being so shockingly rude that the management gave us free coffee and cake. I only asked for help with the sizing on brownie trousers.
Then I went into another shop, where the music was so loud that we couldn’t hear each other talk. Cue instant stress headache. I asked one of the beaming staff to turn it down, causing the beam to instantly crease into shocked horror and a shout of ‘but normally it’s much louder than this!’ to be emitted in my direction. We left then. They could possibly have tempted me to stay longer had they offered me free cake. But they didn’t, so we’ll never know.
But it does beg the question – why are shops so rubbish? Why is the music so loud, and the mirrors so unflattering, and the choice so poor? Why do they never have any shoes in stock in a size 7 (though shoes are a whole other matter. I personally can’t decide if a pair of shoes are comfortable with an assistant gawping at my feet. Selling doesn’t get more high pressure than a shoe shop) and why do they employ assistants who seem to have no other purpose than to stand around telepathically projecting ‘this shop is not for you’ thoughts in to my head?
And why don’t more shops have cake?
Fortunately for me (and the rest of the world) the internet has been invented and we have been blessed with the wonder that is internet shopping which means that I don’t have to go around wearing rags (or worse).
And if you’re in the mood for some internet shopping, you might like to know that the nice people at Amazon have discounted my new book, She Who Dares, and it’s 99p. If enough of you buy it I’ll be able to employ a minion to go and do all my shopping for me, and I’ll be eternally grateful (as will all the shop assistants).
So shopping – is anyone else as bad at it as me?