realitycheck(dot)ie

Irish doctor with too many thoughts, too little time and a blog that's supposed to check in on reality.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

So this is the New Year for the Retail Challenged

My scheduled tutorials were cancelled for this afternoon so I headed out to the South Dublin Shopping mecca – Dundrum.
I was playing my iPod on random and just as the Luas stopped at Ballally I got Death Cab for Cutie’s “New Year” from Transatlanticism. .
Here’s the start –
“So this is the new year.And I don't feel any different.The clanking of crystalExplosions off in the distance So this is the new yearAnd I have no resolutionsFor self assigned penanceFor problems with easy solutions”
I’ve no resolutions except the one I made when I was about 12 – that I would go to bed before 12 and get up when my alarm went off. We’ll see how it goes, but the last 10 years, and the last 3 days of 2006 have shown its success to be very unlikely.
But I’ve business proposition for a problem with an easy solution.
I’m retail challenged.
I hate shopping – I think retail therapy is a capitalist conspiracy (and I’m a sworn free market capitalist)
I’ve only been to Dundrum once before and that was after a trip to the Central Mental Hospital. I hated it then and I hate it now.
Got on grand for the first 15-20 minutes or so and then the headache sat in. Went into Virgin Megastore which had a really good Folk section that I wanted to explore but my gyri started to shrivel and bounce against the walls of my skull. The unse-unse-unse music was turned up and I ran away. I then wandered aimlessly through shops, disgusted, depressed and annoyed. Nothing in my size except things I didn’t like. Got told by one shop assistant that “no, we don’t have that boot in 8 – that’s very big isn’t it???”. No it’s not, stupid shop assistant  - size 12 is big for a woman. Size 8 is rarer than 5, but so is 3. I’m 5 foot 7 and a bit. My feet have to hold me up somehow – centre of gravity and all that.
Went into Starbucks for a muffin which was so horribly stale I had to return it. Then I tried to get some juice in Boost. But every option I wanted was unavailable – no mangoes, carrots, pineapple or passion fruit – so I had an orange juice which I drank on my way to the Luas, while running away from South Dublin’s Hellmouth.
My little business proposition is very simple – Shopping Centres arranged per size – the size 12 shop, the size 14 shop, the size 7 shoe shop etc.
Then, I could go shopping, look at what was available in my size and more importantly not fall in love with things that will never fit me.
Each of these shops would be organised as per item of clothing – coats, long and short, short and long sleeved jumpers etc.
There could also be a cross referencing system which allows those of us who only wear 4 colours (black, brown, burgundy and pink) to explore the greater shades of the universe. These fashion dictates would, of course, be optional.
Perhaps, in the meantime, I could use last year’s Christmas present – a Colour Me Beautiful voucher from my mother. Not for my mother (a la Bridget Jones’ mother) but from my mother for me. That’s how bad it is.

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