I hate going to shops. Generally, a trip down the high street ends with me back at home on the couch, wet towel across my forehead, swigging from a bottle of wine and responding in angry grunts to anyone that dares attempt to communicate with me. Shopping and I are just not compatible, even though I’m a woman and all cultural tropes point to “MUST LOVE SHOPPING.” But no–I’m that friend that happily takes the “boyfriend bench” next to the change rooms while her friends coo about how “cute” everything is for 3 hours, groaning all the while out of a mix of hyper-anxiety and boredom.
My shopping motto is generally this: “If you can’t get it online, then you don’t need it.” Give me my sweats, bed, laptop and credit card and I can have a whole winter wardrobe chosen and purchased within half an hour. Then I can carry on having an extremely relaxing time in complete isolation from the craziness that is shopping, while someone else worries about getting my items safely to me. With this convenience available, why would anyone ever subject themselves to the layer of hell that is comprised of stores? Here is a list of reasons why shopping is the worst, and why you’re crazy to try it.
The Brain Melting Volume and Tempo Of The Music
Have you ever been to a clothing store that isn’t playing obnoxious remixes of “We Found Love” or some unidentifiable dubstep/house/techno/Skrillex bullshit at an irrationally loud volume? In a world where the high street and the club have well and truly collided, the music-induced headache is just not worth the cute dresses. Add to that how disorientating the sound is, and you’ll walk in looking for a winter coat yet walk out with a sparkly crop top and some short shorts because you know, Ibiza, I guess.
The Terrible Lighting
What do stores have to gain from making you look like death warmed up? It can’t possibly be beneficial to have customers look at themselves in the mirror and recoil from their own reflection in disgust. Get your shit together shops–fluorescent lights make everyone look like they just dug themselves out of a shallow grave, and trendy fixtures and wall sconces create shadows that make us all look as though we were buried there for 100 years.
You know when I want to get shoved out of the way, elbowed, looked up and down and brusquely passed by as large tote bags hit me from every angle? Never, that’s when. PMS has nothing on what shopping turns women into. It’s bad enough in a regular store–where if you’re standing between a girl and something she wants, you’re essentially rendered completely invisible, and treated as such. Throw a sale into the mix and someone is really going to get hurt.