Standing Outside the Fitting Room

Normally, I don't voluntarily accompany my mom and sisters to the mall--especially when I don't need anything myself.

So I'm not sure what came over me yesterday when my mom said "the girls need to get swimsuits and shorts for spring break. do you want to come?" and I said sure.

The first thing I should have remembered was that "swimsuits and shorts" never means just those things.

But let's back up. My sisters are like hangers. Any type of clothing you drape over them looks perfect. So when they see shirts and tank tops, they of course MUST try those on too. Just to let you know early on, our shopping trip was not short at all.

When I shop, I know exactly what I need, and I find it and leave. Period.

Anyway,

We went to Zumiez first where they got their swimsuits.

The problem I have with my sisters trying on swimsuits (other than waiting and listening to them whine and them demanding I go get them different sizes/styles)
is how oblivious they are to the look of their own bodies.
Emily, for example, is a sporty tomboy in most of her stylistic choices. Most of her clothing is baggy and casual.
When she tries on a swimsuit (especially a bikini from Zumiez) she is a bombshell.

When she swung open the dressing room door to show us, the two pervs working there were standing there too.
Now, I realize they're trying to make sales. Cool. But making comments like "looks nice!" and "I like the fit!" are not appropriate for a cornucopia of reasons. some being:

1. she's under aged
2. her MOTHER is right there
3. you're a punk
4. you're a guy who's a stranger. your (unsolicited) opinion is invalid. period.

And then there's Natalie. When she tries on swimsuits now, it's hard to believe that in six years she's going to be seventeen, six feet tall (according to our doctor) and wearing something like this suit--that looks a little more like underwear the more you consider it.

Since she's 11, I feel sort of okay with her swimsuit choice. But it just reminds me that I won't feel comfortable for long.

And I realize I'm a nostalgic person by nature. I hate change. But the reality that my sisters are growing up is still hard. I've never looked like them. I've never had guys all over me during spring break. I have no idea how to be the older sister in this case.


The rest of the mall trip was more whining, more derailing from our goal of shorts, and more of me standing outside the fitting rooms.

Standing outside the fitting rooms. That's an interesting place to me. Metaphorically speaking, for one. Kind of an illustration for life. That's where I've always been. Giving the opinions, getting new sizes, waiting, waiting, waiting. But never IN, never doing any of the trying on.

Literally speaking, I don't like being outside the fitting rooms either. Because it never fails. No matter what store--Zumiez, Pac Sun, American Eagle--one of their genius, 16 year old employees asks me "do you need a fitting room too?"

At some point, I am going to keep the blank expression on my face and say "Yes. I thought I'd walk in, empty-handed, and just look at myself." Or "Yes, I'd like to try on my purse."

Genius.

I'd also like to add that the adult employees of stores are obsessed with busting shoplifters. They ask me (a young, "hippie-looking" girl with a huge purse) if I need any help at least 6 different times.
I wish I could just yell at them: "I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE ANYTHING! YOUR CLOTHES DON'T FIT ME ANYWAY!"

Malls suck.

I like what my Political Science professor said once about a shopping mall mall proposal in Iraq: "You can't build a mall in a terrorist country until you establish peace. They will SHOOT the mall. They will shoot each other IN the mall!"

Malls really are a stupid invention no matter where you build them. Any place that attracts large groups of preteen girls can never be good.

Next time, I'm bringing a book and sitting at Orange Julius.