faster pussycat... type! type!

Last night, my mom Pattie and I went shopping. We needed to get something for me to wear to her wedding. All we needed was some kind of blouse or top to go with the satin skirt I already have. With the exception of shoes, I'm not a fan of shopping for clothing. I buy what I need and get on with my life. If I like the way something fits, I get more of the same, in a different color. I buy the same levi's every time I need jeans. I have a couple of the same cargo capris, just in different colors. Stuff like that. Which is way I probably have drawers full of t-shirts, jeans, khakis, cardigans and little else. There is some variety, but for the most part, I have a limited fashion sense. I'm all about comfort. Which is why trying on several fancy, expensive tops or blouses in a row makes me hot and cranky. What kind of lighting to they use in dressing rooms? Does it have to be so hot in there?

The shopping went a lot like this:
Scenario A:
Pattie heads over to a particular rack.
Jodi, emphatically: no!
Pattie doesn't bother picking anything off and heads in new direction.

Scenario B:
Jodi heads over to a particular rack or display.
Pattie, firmly: Not dressy enough.
Jodi doesn't bother picking anything off the rack, but takes time out to make face at Pattie.

Finally we found something we could both deal with it. It was half the price of the blouse that my mom had purchased for me, that I had vetoed. [we returned that one.] And my mom also got some capri pants with a crazy pineapple thing going on on them, for her honeymoon. We we were making the purchase, she was discussing shopping with the clerk, and I was making whiny noises. They kept talking about cute this, and darling that. And sales, and did I check out the jewelry over in the back of the store?

Jodi: I don't need any jewelry, I'm wearing Moür Moür's pearls to the wedding.
Pattie: no, I know, this isn't for the wedding, they just have some cute stuff.
Jodi: Why do I need cute stuff?
Pattie and Clerk have discussion about the jewelry that I cannot begin to recall.
Jodi [with no small amount of horror]: You really ARE a shopper, aren't you? You ENJOY this!
Pattie: yup.
Jodi: So does Vickie [her sister]. Further proof I am adopted.
Clerk: Oh that's nice! That's good, hon, because that means they picked you out special! They must really love you!
Pattie and Jodi exchange a look, recognizing they've hooked a live one. Pattie starts to pet Jodi's hair.
Pattie: We sure do!
Jodi: We'll ... they gave birth to the first one, and look at how THAT turned out.
Clerk [slightly confused at last statement]: I have friends who just adopted a 4 year old from Russian. Such a darling boy. It must feel so good to help kids in needs.
Pattie [still petting Jodi's hair]: Yes, it does. She's from Bosnia. [said in a whisper, as if not to remind me of my tragic past]

And with that, Pattie and Jodi left to go on their wicked, lying ways.