Shopping or Retail Therapy

Are there any other people out there in my situation?

I have managed to lose 30 kilos due to illness. This is NOT a recommended way of losing weight however this does not change the reality that with additional scars, loss of hair and a premature wrinkling of the skin, I now once again have the body I had in my youth, albeit a little less well toned and tanned.

When I look in my cupboard I realise that this dramatic change comes at a cost. There is not a single thing in there that I can wear. My pants look like they belong on Bozo the clown while my jackets could be made into a double breasted style or a form of jacket sarong because they are able to be wrapped around the new torso. What to do?

One obvious option is to have the clothes altered and so that at around half the price of buying new clothes you will seem to have new wardrobe.

Another option is to engage in what one of my colleagues called "retail therapy".

In the past I have been a very poor shopper. I went to the mall either because I really had a need to buy something or because my partner dragged me there to obtain my opinion on something she wanted to buy.

I suspect that there are many men out there who know and understand how wonderful it is to be asked to come and offer an opinion about a purchase that their spouse is about to make. If you agree with her choice, then you are not critical enough, if you disagree with the choice, then you are obviously a person of poor taste. In short, going shopping with my partner in the past has been like a trip to the dentist - something to be avoided at all costs.

Not any longer. Something in the chemo therapy has changed my brain patterns. I am now an avid voyeur. I actually enjoy going to the mall to watch the behaviour of the people there who are in thrall to retail therapy.

I recently had the experience of watching the reaction of people in a Big W to a notice that, for five minutes, everything in a particular aisle would be sold for just $5 rather than the price on the tickets. Since this was women's clothing, you simply cannot imagine what happened next unless you were there, on the spot, agog with amazement.

Somehow, women from all over the store converged on this location, as if they were sharks attracted by the scent of blood. A feeding frenzy ensued. Faces were red and perspiring, bodies
exhibiting extreme stress reactions.

Hunting fever, I would have called it, as these women fingered clothes looking for labels that would give them the size of the item. If it was the right size for the individual or for a family member it was taken off the rack immediately and clutched in the hand, tucked into the body, with a strength that usually is only found in people who are responding to a crisis. As the clock wound down and came ever closer to the end of the magic five minutes, the extent of the feverish hunt increased in tempo. Patience no longer existed, normal civility was cast to the four winds. Winning the prize was everything!

As the five minute period ended there were still people with multiple selections held to their bosoms who had not had the price ticket amended to reflect the $5 bargain by the store staff member. The pleading that ensued had to be seen to be believed.

When it was over everyone resumed their ordinary behaviour. Without a bargain there is no change in beahviour. With a bargain all bets are off!

I am now addicted to being an observer of retail therapy. You should try it, it's fun!