Why I Avoid Shopping When I Can.

Scene: The interior of insane high-end women’s clothing shop. Think pink, frills, ribbons, gilt, faux-boudoir furniture and Lady GaGa singing about disco sticks at half a billion decibels.

Enter: Me (30, casually dressed) my Mother (60, casually dressed).

Sales Freak 1: HELLO! WELCOME! YOU BOTH LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL!

Me: Uh, thanks! (heads over to racks on far side of room).

Sales Freak 2: OMG AREN’T THESE DRESSES AMAAAAAAAAAAZING! I JUST ADORE THAT ONE YOU’RE HOLDING! AND THAT OTHER ONE YOU HAPPENED TO GLANCE AT! YOU HAVE PERFECT CHOICE WHEN IT COMES TO CLOTHES!

Me: Wow, thanks. I’m actually looking for a 50’s style sundress to wear to my step-sister’s wedding in January.

Sales Freak 2: OMG THAT IS SO LOVELY! AND SO CLOSE! YOU’D BETTER BUY SOMETHING TODAY OTHERWISE THERE WILL BE NO DRESSES LEFT IN THE WHOLE WORLD! WHAT’S YOUR BUDGET?

Me: Five hundred.

Mum: THREE hundred.

Me: (feels like a teenager).

SF 2: OKAY WELL DO YOU LIKE THIS ONE? IT’S SIX HUNDRED! OR THIS ONE? IT’S EIGHT HUNDRED BUT OMG, IT’S A ONE OFF BOUTIQUE DESIGN HANDMADE AND TAILORED TO FIT!

Me: Uh, I’m not sure we can spend that much...

SF 2: JUST TRY THEM ON ANYWAY! SRSLY! GET AN IDEA! (manhandles us towards changing room area that is surrounded by stick-thin collagen enhanced cougars and more sales freaks).

Queen of the Sales Freaks: OMG DARLING WHAT FANTASTIC SELECTIONS YOU’VE MADE! THESE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL I HAVE ONE AT HOME AND I ADORE IT! JUST POP IN HERE AND POP YOUR CLOTHES OFF AND POP THE DRESS ON AND POP OUT TO SHOW US OKAY DARLING! LOVE IT! WOOT!

Mum: *speechless*

Sparkly sequinned cocktail style dress – nothing like a 50’s style sundress – is manoeuvred on. It doesn’t fit very well over the “girls”.

QotSF: OMG THAT DRESS LOOKS AMAAAZING! IT’S PERFECT! FOR A WEDDING? OH A FAMILY WEDDING! YOU WANT TO LOOK AMAZING BECAUSE YOU’LL BE IN SO MANY PHOTOS BEING FAMILY AND ALL!

Me: Well I’d hate to upstage....

QotSF: LET’S TUG ON IT AND POKE YOU LOTS TO TRY TO MAKE IT LOOK OKAY!

Me: Yeah, I think it makes me look fat.

QotSF: YOU’VE GOT BOOBS! I’VE GOT GREAT BIG BOOBS TOO! I’VE JUST HAD A BABY AND MY BOOBS ARE AMAZING! BUT I’VE ALSO GOT LONG LEGS AND BROAD SHOULDERS....WHICH YOU DON’T HAVE! I LOOK FABULOUS IN ALL THESE THINGS! LOOK AT MY BOOBS AND MY LONG LEGS!

Me: ........I’m going to try the other one.

Cream tunic dress that actually looks passable is donned.

Me: I don’t mind this. Mum, what do you think?

Mum: *says something but no-one can hear a thing over Britney telling us how she likes threesomes*

QotSF: THIS DRESS IS SO SPECIAL ONE OF A KIND DESIGNER HANDMADE TAILORED TO FIT!

Me: Why does the hem hang down at the back?

QotSF: THAT’S (designer’s name) SIGNATURE! ALL HER DRESSES ARE LIKE THAT! LIKE VIVIENNE WESTWOOD!

Me, thinking: WTF?

QotSF to Mum: THIS IS A DRESS THAT I THINK WOULD LOOK GREAT ON YOU AS A MOTHER OF THE BRIDE!

Mum: As I said before, it’s my step-daughter.

QotSF: DOESN’T MATTER! SAME THING! TRY THIS DRESS ON! NAVY IS SO HIP RIGHT NOW AND YOU’VE GOT GREAT LEGS AND NO BUTT!

Mum, drawing herself up to her full 5 feet 3: I don’t LIKE that dress.

QotSF: OH. WELL I’M JUST GOING TO POKE YOU AND YELL IN YOUR FACE A BIT MORE! AND TELL YOU HOW AMAZING THIS DRESS IS ABOUT FOUR HUNDRED TIMES.

Me: Mum, what do you think about this one?

Mum: I think we should go away and think about it.

QotSF: IT’LL BE GONE. GONE. JUST LIKE THAT. EVERYONE ALWAYS GETS SO MAD AT ME FOR NOT HOLDING THESE DRESSES BUT I CAN’T, BECAUSE THEY SELL THAT QUICKLY. YOU’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER ONE LIKE IT. EVER. YOUR LIFE WILL BE RUINED IF YOU DO NOT BUY THIS DRESS RIGHT NOW.

Me: Well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. There are a couple of others we’ve seen around town.

Qotsf: WHERE? CAN I REMIND YOU THAT THIS IS A ONE OFF PIECE THAT’S HANDMADE AND TAILORED TO FIT!

Me: *names well known NZ designer*

QotSF: OH. WELL, I’M SURE I DON’T NEED TO TELL YOU THAT OUR DESIGNS ARE ONE OFF AND HANDMADE. (OTHER DESIGNER) IS JUST A FUNKY STREEET LABEL!

The other dress is SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS and a beautiful 50’s style sundress. Nail in the coffin.

(inside the changing room) Me: Mumthisplaceisscaryandineedtogetoutnow!!!

Mum: Thatwomanisthemosthorriblepersoni’veevermet! Andthezipiscrookedonthatdress!

(outside changing room) Me, smiling thinly: Well, thank you for your help.

QofSF: OKAY BYEEEEEEEEEE! (to other sales freak) THIS WOMAN IN HERE NEEDS A CAMISOLE! AND A CARDIGAN! NOW! GO! OKAY THANKS DARLING! LOVE YOU! LALA I KNOW ALL THE WORDS TO RIHANNA!

Various sales freaks: OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING IN! WE LOVE YOU!

Outside, in the rain – Me: I’m shaking. That was the most awful shopping experience of my life.

Mum: I saw a dress that I quite liked. But I purposely didn’t buy it because she was so awful.

Me: Shall we go back to Andrea Moore and buy that other beautiful dress?

Mum: Definitely.

Fin.

I won’t name names, but this awful store’s designer is Australian, and her name rhymes with SchmAllanah SchmHill.

My girls

This is me with wee Stella-bella in the weekend. She's 8 months and is so sweet. She's a bit shy so to get this shot of her smiling with me was a real bonus over a mad mad mad weekend.

My partner lost his job on Thursday. Basically it's a year since I'd also lost my job. So I know what he's going through. It's very exhausting and he's taken it very hard (who doesn't). So cuddles with the nieces are the best therapy you can get.

I was putting Stella into her car seat when I notice Amelie staring at me intently.

"Have you got a baby?" she asks, no doubt looking at my less-than-trim stomach.
"No, but I'd like one," I say.

She keeps studying me.

"What are you looking at?" I ask her.
"Boobies," she shoots back.

As you do.

In other news, I've only 12 working days left this year. This is so much awesomeness, but so much to do up until then. I cannot wait until our holiday this year. We are spending Xmas again in Tauranga with my step-sister's family and my step-dad and Mum. All the other sisters are having away games at their in-laws. We'll be doing the usual bedlam present opening, and crayfish and champers around the new pool at Kathryn's house.
Then we're going to be heading to Richard's parents who live nearby for Xmas dins. They're British, and do a proper turkey with all the trimmings. It's AWESOME. Even if it's 30 deg outside and we're all wishing we could go for a swim, the turkey gets mown. Can't wait.
After Tauranga we're heading to Napier to my parents for my birthday (the 28th). It's a nothing special birthday - 31 - but I always make a fuss because it's so close to Xmas. I'm thinking cucumber sandwiches, cupcakes and bubbles around the pool.
Then on about the 30th we're heading to Mahia, where we went last year. It's a tiny coastal settlement north of Hawkes Bay. Unspoilt beach, one pub, one shop, and lots of surfers dudes and fishermen. The best thing? NO CELL PHONE RECEPTION. Ahh....peace. We'll be camping under pine trees and showering in cold rain water. It's brilliant.

So that's our summer plans. I don't have to be back in the office until the 11th. Brilliant. Hopefully at some stage Richard will get a look in at some jobs, but right now, it's a big black hole of nothing and we're both fighting to stay positive.

I will appreciate jokes and pictures of babies and/or cats.

A Bereavement

All two or three of my long-time readers will recall my posts about my Dad and his idiosyncracies. Well, on Sunday he let loose with another zinger.

"Hey Dad! I missed your call?"
"Hey Aims! How are you? Good weekend?"
"Great thanks! Just been at a BBQ with pals."
"Oh lovely. Listen, Mum died last night. Do you want to come over for dinner?"

By Mum, he means my Grandmother, who I wrote about a while ago, after she broke her hip in a fall. She was 93.

All joking aside, this is very much The Family Way. We don't show emotion and we don't cry or, God forbid, talk about our feelings. Funnily enough I feel like I've been adopted at birth, because I love a good cry, and am always analysing things and talking about how I feel with friends. My mother just worries that my workplace will get mad because I'll be taking the day off to go to Grandma's funeral. At her own mother's funeral she watched my Aunt go to touch the coffin and break down in tears, so she refused to go. I was all, Mum, it's OKAY TO CRY. But, it's her way. And Dad and his brother are the same.

So getting to Grandma's house on Sunday and seeing Dad in tears for a wee bit was very hard. We sat around and looked at photo albums and cuttings that she'd collected, and I cried a bit over finding an envelope of my late Aunt's hair, collected at her first ever haircut. She died in her early 40's of cancer.

Our family on Dad's side is very small, with my Uncle and Aunt never marrying, and Dad only producing my sister and me. So the arrangements have fallen to Dad and my Uncle. Being men, they don't realise that neighbours WANT to come around and drop off food and stay for a natter and tell you about their stories with Grandma. That they are grieving too. So yesterday I took myself around there and got rid of all the "sick" things - her walker, the awful toilet chair contraption, her boxes of tissues and masses of pills. I made the house look like Grandma again and did a heck of a lot of cleaning. 93 year old eyes miss things. It was very cathartic. I found a prayer book belonging to my namesake, Grandma's mother, that had been presented to her "by the Church of England upon the occasion of her marriage, 1915." I found my Aunt's photos and slides of her travels in the 60's, where she looks like a fashion icon. I found photos of my Grandmother done up to the nines off to war-time dances and dinners. I felt like I had never known this person. The Grandma I knew wore trousers and jackets and awful sun hats and had a bit of a temper.

We're hosting a wake there after the funeral so I'll make sure everyone has a napkin and there's some nice music on and enough loo paper and all those things that simply don't occur to men. I'm going to display all the lovely old photos around the room so those who also met her later in her life can see what she was really like.

What was bizarre was me checking my messages this morning after a hectic weekend. First to come up was from Friday night, and it was from Grandma. She wanted to talk to someone "who was out there and living life. Someone young!" she said. I didn't even notice the missed call and rarely check my voicemail, preferring to just call the person back. But this time, I didn't. Am finding it very hard to come to terms with the sadness and disappointment in her voice. Mum says there's nothing I can do about it now and don't beat myself up.

Easier said than done.