>The other day I realized I hadn’t gone clothing shopping in about…six months. Thinking it would be nice to find some more fashionable, urban-chic clothing at a reasonable price, I wandered into Marshalls after a nice bit at the gym.
Of course, what started as a task to find different, more “cute” an “sexy” clothes turned into my arms filled with an array of v-neck sweaters in grey, brown, black, etc. I get this from my mother.
After about two hours of searching for the fitting rooms (are they always next to the shoes?), I realized I had just gone to the gym, and I was sweaty. And wearing a sports bra. And trying on any of these clothes in my hand would be absurd, if not a little rancid. Feeling slightly defeated, I thought I could wander and find a nice coat or something to try on over my tshirt; maybe something with a belt buckle, or a singe at the waist (gasp!).
To get right to it, while I walked into Marshalls to find some fashionable clothes, I ended up purchasing this:
A $90 fleece reduced to $30, this sucker (which is way more teal in real life) is like petting a chinchilla-bunny hybrid and could keep you warm in Norway. You can zip it all the way up to your chin, removing any need for a cute scarf. The best part is the hood though, which just barely lets your head tuck inside, leaving you to look like some fluffy, teal– albeit warm– alien.
When I was waiting in line to purchase my alien suit, I was reminded of how funny check out counters are in stores like Marshalls. In a desperate attempt to have you BUY MORE STUFF, they throw at you the most random gadgets and goods: picture frames, wool socks, chocolate-covered strawberries, chocolate-covered cherries, chocolate-covered peanuts, chocolate-covered chocolate (which are just generic-brand M&M,s–they fooled you!). I saw a woman look through a pile of neck pillows and find a tiny one for her baby. She put it on the content little infant’s neck, only to have the kid start screaming. No pillow for her, unfortunately.
There were notecards and calendars, halloween masks and about fifty different types of pens. This gets me the most. A pen has one function, and one function only, yet we are somehow lured into buying the fat ones that have some pretty poem sprinkled in script down its side that has enough ink to last for about two days, or three greeting cards (which ever comes first). The best was the beverage cooler though, situated right at the beginning of the “please form line here” stand. The mini-fridge had a sign that read “because you just don’t thirst for fashion.”
At that time, unfortunately for me, I wasn’t thirsting for either.