Shopper’s Bulimia

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This is the style lady for the Village Voice,Lynn Yaeger, the one who put a name on my disorder for me:shopper’s bulimia.This is the thing that I do. I buy clothes and return them or want to return them the instant I get them home and try them on in front of my harsh mirrors.

I try to read her column when I can because her personal look is so strange and I find it compelling to read about what such a strange looking woman thinks about fashion. She does dirty work, like me and she gets paid to write about her bad shopping experiences,unlike me, although she is positively, chirpily cheerful about it. I’m much more disagreeable than she in my reviews of badly staffed stores. She last wrote about trekking out to Target in Brooklyn to see the line by Alice Temperly
(and so did I )
but she cut them much slack. Somehow she managed to find the Alice Temperly clothes… in the basement. I have never found this basement in Target. But if you ask a Target employee folding clothes in the women’s section where they (Temperly’s Target stuff) might be and you get shocked and confused bleats and then a whoofled plea that you should go ask the people who work in fitting. And I guess leave them alone.

Want to make a Target employee miserable? Ask them where something is or help finding something. Works every time.

Lynn isn’t a size 2. But neither am I which makes me want to pay attention to when she writes about trying clothes on…if she can get into it chances are I can too. She said the Temperly stuff “fit kind of funny” and it was this that made me give those enervated staffers a break. Why pursue finding clothes that all fit funny,anyway? But Lynn Yaeger made me curious and I at least wanted to see them.

I did buy 2 black tank tops a size too big in the hopes that I might actually have more things to wear…not so lucky. Either Target has gone the route of the upsized lower number (a size 10 is really a size 12, etc.) or I am not as fat as I think I am. And who are these tubby chicks with no tits anyway? Both tops were made for a fat girl with not one speck of breast tissue or a brazen hussy who wouldn’t mind 10 million Tara Reid moments throughout her day. I bought larger because I want things to be loose goddammit but there is no way I am going to duct tape my boobs for a 17.99 top.
So back they go. Shopper’s bulimia strikes again.
Lynn mentioned the value of trying stuff on to avoid this problem but I just didn’t want to see the inside of Target’s dressing rooms.