My mom, my daughter and I walked out of the department store, laughing about how eager the salesman at the door was to help us or – more likely – sell us something. “Yeah,” I said, “I don’t go shopping to talk to people!”
We got in the car and drove around the shopping center to Lane Bryant, so I could keep looking for a new outfit to wear at an upcoming conference. My mom took Annalyn next door to the Bath & Body Works to look at every kind of pink or sparkly lotion, while I walked into the store.
I knew what I was looking for, so I quickly started flipping through the shirts on the racks and pulling out pants in various sizes. One saleswoman offered to open a dressing room for me, so I handed her the items I’d collected and turned to look for more.
That’s when she found me.
She must have sensed my insecurity and anxiety, because this saleswoman came at me with laser focus. Right out of the gate, she said, “Ohhhh, you’re going to be one of those people who can wear anything. You’ve just got that body type that looks good in anything!”
Who, me? Um, no.
Apparently she’d missed it when, just a few minutes earlier, I’d said to my mom, “Why is it that no matter how much I weigh or what I’m shopping for, I am always in between sizes? My body is just not shaped right!”
So, okay, maybe I was feeling a little pessimistic about the odds of me finding the perfect outfit that actually fit me. Or maybe I was hungry or distracted. Clearly I was not in my right mind, because I said, “Wow! Thanks! Can you just follow me around all day and say things like that?”
WHY? Why did I encourage her?
Long story short, she took my flippant question seriously and did, in fact, follow me around until I finally left the store. And while I was still there? She got on EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY NERVES.
At one point I tried on a super cute black and white houndstooth skirt (which I ended up getting, in case you’re wondering), and I paired it with a fire-engine red, long-sleeved, button-up shirt. I love that style of shirt, and I love red. It seemed like a good idea.
But it didn’t quite work. And, of course, the fact that I was still wearing socks didn’t do the outfit any favors. Still, by then, my mom and daughter were waiting patiently outside the dressing room for a fashion show. So I walked out to show them the outfit.
Being a sweet encouraging girl who not-so-secretly wishes her plain Jane mama would wear more dresses and skirts, my daughter immediately squealed and said, “Ooooh, Mommy! I love it! You look so pretty!”
I was ready to go back and pull on my old jeans, but I wasn’t that lucky. My friend, the saleswoman, made a beeline for me. She grabbed my arm, pulled me over to the mirror, and demanded, “Tell me what you see.”
Huh?
“Tell me what you see in that mirror!” she repeated.
“Well . . . I see a red shirt . . .” I quipped.
In the background I could hear another (sane and not-annoying) saleswoman snickering, and I was sure I could feel my mom rolling her eyes. But that didn’t stop this lady. No, she went on to say in her best Stuart Smalley voice, “I’ll tell you what I see. I see . . . [insert needless dramatic pause here] . . . A Real Woman. I do! You are a real woman, and you have great curves and blah blah blah blah.”
I couldn’t tell you what else she said, because I was too busy gritting my teeth and, you know, not punching her.
Seriously? A real woman? Did she think I saw a fake one? Of course I’m a real woman! Good grief.
And here’s the thing. I wasn’t annoyed because she embarrassed me with her weirdness or because this real woman also comes complete with short legs, narrow shoulders and proportionately small boobs. No, I was irritated because I don’t need a counseling session to know if an outfit looks good enough to buy!
The fact that I knew the shirt was too bright, too much to pair with the classy skirt doesn’t mean that I hate myself. It doesn’t mean squat about my self-esteem. It just means that I hadn’t found the right shirt to buy yet.
But, when I’m honest with myself, I was annoyed for another reason, too. Even though that saleswoman was irritating to the point of rude, spouting unsolicited advice about loving myself and accepting myself as a real woman (WHAT does that even mean, anyway?), what upset me and kept me ranting for hours after we left the store was the fact that she highlighted my deep dissatisfaction with my appearance.
My body image wasn’t really at play when I decided that red shirt didn’t look good on me, with the black and white skirt. But, if I’m honest, my body image is always at play at some level. And I don’t need someone pointing it out and lecturing me about it.
So, how did I give up on perfect that day?
- I went shopping in the first place, because even if what I see in the mirror isn’t perfect, I still deserve a new outfit now and then.
- I bought the cute skirt. (Okay, fine. Technically, I let my mom buy the skirt. For me.)
- I only ranted about that saleswoman for a day or so. And then I, you know, got on with my life. Mostly.
- {Did I mention that I didn’t punch – or even yell at – that annoying saleswoman? Success.}
- I found a black button-up shirt in my closet that looked cute with my new skirt, and I rocked it at my conference.
I’m not saying I rocked it like a supermodel. But I looked nice and felt confident and THAT is giving up on perfect and getting on with life.
This post is part of 31 Days of Giving Up on Perfect. I won’t be talking about skirts and saleswoman every day this month, but I will be working through a whole lot of ways I need to kick perfectionism to the curb in my life. For more 31 Days, visit The Nester.
Oh Mary, I was on the edge of my chair, secretly wishing you would punch her in the face! I totally relate to this. And that ‘real woman’ comment? GAG! ALL women are freaking real, lady, with or without curves. The dressing room is probably my worst place for confronting perfectionism (I won’t regale you with my dramatic history with it here – you’re welcome!) and I love your advice to feel confident, give up on perfect and get on with life. Loving this series so far. :) xo
PS I just read your last post too – and that feeling of everything going to hell while you deal with a fit of epic proportions? Been there too, mate. Praying it gets easier soon.
I was cracking up the entire time I was reading this story! You are hilarious.
I love this. Well, not that you had to experience this, but I think you know what I mean. I’ve had similar, but not as well-written experiences. Thanks for sharing this!
I hear you. Thank YOU for reading it!
I used to have really bad acne as a teen, and beyond…I owned a mirror, I knew what my face was doing, but still, going into a department store makeup counter was so hard. The sales people zero-ed in on the blemishes (before I even approached the counter) to try to sell me all this make that would make me beautiful. I felt fine with myself before the unsolicited sales pitch, but afterwords, I was always down, wondering if that was the very first thing people saw/thought about me. So, good for you for not punching the lady :o) If I was in a situation like that today, I would not be able to keep my mouth shut.
Oh, Sabrina, that makes me hurt for your teen self! Shame on those saleswomen for their insensitivity!
So great, Mary. So great. And you always give me a good chuckle somewhere in your posts!! Envious of your clothing success. I despise shopping for myself. ;)
Me too. The upside is that I’m a really FAST shopper – kind of like ripping off a bandaid, you know?!
Mary, you are hysterical! We need to go shopping together so I can stand behind the annoying saleswoman and make faces…
LOVE your wrap-up list of how you gave up on perfect. I need to start doing that at the end of each day…or most days (don’t wanna set myself up for failure, there!)
Haha! Someone making faces would’ve made that situation a LOT better!
Oh wow, I would have wanted to punch the woman too! Great way to put a positive spin on it. I must admit that I have a pretty hard time being kind to myself when shopping for clothes. It does seem that I never have the right proportions for anything.
Does anyone have the right proportions? I’m just not sure anyone does!
Ugh. I would’ve wanted to punch her too. And I don’t know that I would’ve stayed. So yes, good job!
I’d like to say I have lots of patience, but really, I just knew my best chance of finding something to wear was there. For better or worse.
I tried that skirt on at Lane Bryant and it didn’t work on me. I’m sooooo glad it looked good on you because it was CUTE! And yes, the red blouse distracted from the cuteness of the skirt. Black top was a great choice.
Real Woman… ha. Just because that’s LB’s trademark phrase is no reason to badget people with it.
Right? That’s taking marketing a little too far! :)
Love. This.
I always WANT to get new clothes, but then I end up having internal conversations that bring me down. Of course, internal conversations are not nearly as annoying as the one you had externally with the saleswoman.
You have inspired me to go out and get the new jeans this weekend that I have been putting off purchasing for oh, say, two months. :) I think I might steer clear of LB though!
So – did you get the new jeans?? I actually got two new pairs yesterday. NOT at Lane Bryant, though. ;)
I did! Two pair! :)
Oh my goodness, I would have been so fed up with that sales lady. I would have said “Um, I do NOT need you to feel good about myself, so kindly back off!”. I cannot tolerate that kind of nonsense.
I’m back…
My niece turned 13 today (on my 14th wedding anniversary) and I wrote her a letter about loving herself just like she is and realizing that she’s beautiful RIGHT NOW in her life and being accepting of who she is, not what society expects her to be, etc. It bothers me that this sales lady thought you needed her “compliments, validations, etc.” to feel good about yourself. Ugh!
Tonia, what a beautiful gift for your niece! And exactly – I did not need that saleswoman’s “help” to feel okay about myself!
Okay…. I was TOTALLY LOL at the “I was too busy gritting my teeth and, you know, not punching her” comment!!! TOO funny!
Wow… I can honestly say I’ve never met a salesperson like that–and I think I’m thankful! :-)
Oh my gosh, Heather – it was so ridiculous, I can’t even tell you!