What do I know about clothes? Nothing, almost nothing. It's not that I'm still in prehistoric times when it comes to my clothes, but I've never really been interested in fashion. I don't belong to the fashion dolls and I don't like shopping. Shopping is not my thing. Shopping makes me tired and I can't go fast enough. I would love to buy everything online, but unfortunately that's not possible. In any case, what I would never buy online is clothes and shoes. I have to try them on first to know if they fit properly. I have always had this problem. My mother used to buy me clothes and they were always old-fashioned, boutique-like and more for older people than children or teenagers. She did say that she would bring it back if it didn't fit, but even though I was dying of itching and felt very unhappy, she never brought the clothes back to the shop. She clearly didn't care what I thought of it or if I felt good about myself. On average, I was not comfortable in my own skin.
.Indeed, even then I can't go fast enough. I don't like to dilly-dally and I don't like crowded shops. Shops where you can't turn around between the many clothes racks and boxes and people and then stand in line for hours for a changing room. It disgusts me and it makes me feel anxious. This is also something that I have inherited from shopping with my mother on Saturdays. Whole Saturdays, even hours after closing time, I was bored in a boutique while the saleswoman was pushing one expensive garment after another at my mother. She was definitely their best customer, because even after closing time, she was allowed to stay to try on clothes, and drinks and snacks were served. As a child, I had to sit particularly still. Crawling around under the racks of clothes was out of the question. I have heard many lies from saleswomen and have seen doubtful, insecure customers. Customers who were actually unhappy with their purchase and felt just as unhappy in the garment they were sold as I did in the itchy jumpers and shirts my mother bought for me.
As a child, I was made to look like an asshole when it came to my appearance. Not blond, of an unstable race and appearance and then also having eczema in the worst form you can imagine. By the way, a very good reason to stay at home, even though the home I grew up in was more like a house of horror. My children, I don't want them to look like fools or feel unhappy. Not in their skin and not with the clothes they wear. So I do go shopping with the youngest ones, even though I'd rather not, and while I can't find anything for myself, in a short time I've found nice things from the clothes racks that also have my children's approval. What my cousin used to do with me I now do with them. They stand in the fitting room while I offer them the clothes they want to try on. In between, I sit on that stool again. The same kind of stool that I used to spend whole Saturdays on as a child, I now sit on for less than an hour, waiting for everything to be fitted and for the best pieces to be picked out. Long-sleeved shirts with a scoop neckline, this time not black because all clothes are already black and a bit of colour needs to be brought into life. Blue and purple it is and with that my children are already a lot more modern than I am. I still feel best in dark shades. I already had that as a child. Stand-outs are not my thing, although I have made a small exception now with a red, blue and white shirt for when it's summer again.
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