Monday, September 29, 2014

The Halls of Skin & Bone...

I've started re-posting a little bit from my former Mommy Blog. I'm getting a kick out of re-living all the chaos of having younger kiddos.

This was written after our first trip into Hollister...a.k.a The Halls of Skin & Bone.

Enjoy!

Today we did some school shopping. I got a babysitter and I took my older two to the mall.

I love the smell of Back-to-School!

Not the fact that the fruit of my loins will actually spend hours away from me 5 days a week (I hate that part) but just the tingly excitement of that first day. The new kids, new teachers, locker combinations, new notebooks, cute boys, being late to the class I didn't even sign up for but ended up being on my schedule, unexpectedly getting my period, tripping up the stairs in front of the boy I was planning on having a crush on that day and having egg salad soup at the bottom of my locker at luchtime.

Well, not ALL my memories are good ones I guess. But, I still get excited for the shopping!

On our trip, we went to all the stores that kids love: Children's Place, Old Navy, GAP and some department stores that Mom dragged them into in hopes of a good sale. But then I had the great idea to travel into a world unknown...Hollister.

I have never been able to figure out the fashion phenomenon of a NAME. What makes a name when it comes to fashion? How do the words GAP, ABERCROMBIE, AEROPOSTALE define multi-millions in sales? They are cool clothes, I enjoy the styles and quality but I have a strong feeling if they looked identical but were called SMITHSENSTRUBER they wouldn't be so cool!

So, we walk into Hollister - our first time. It's a dark and loud store. I actually felt like I was walking into a bar. That's how they sell clothes! You are squinting and can't see a thing and the music is so loud when you ask where to find the clothes that cost less than $400 you can't hear what the 4-year old sales girl who weighs 20 lbs. says. So, you grab up a couple things, head to the register, swipe your card and head for the nearest CVS for some Advil, Oil of Olay and Slim Fast.

I am not a name-dropper or someone who needs to have the latest name brand fashions
and I try to deter my children from feeling that is necessary. Oh, and knock-off designer purses don't count because they are not real.

But, I have shopped long enough to know that even the stores that cause you to take out a second mortgage just to outfit your three children for one day DO, in fact, sometimes have good sales. I just thought it would be cool for my first-time middle-schooler to have a Hollister T-shirt for school...I would do anything to give him a leg up on the sometimes cruel competition.

So, we walk in and head right for the clearance racks.

Of course, we had to pass the posters...ugh, the posters...what was this, the red light district? Are they SELLING SKIN in this store? Well, then why is so much of it showing?? The girls in the posters weigh approximately 14.5 ounces and have the slender shape of Gumby! Their apparent poster boy love interests have 6-pack abs that go the whole way dowwwwwwwwwn to a VERY TOO LOW waistline.

I was covering my daughter's eyes and blushing before we got past the cash register! I think I actually felt myself get fatter in this store. I could see the sales staff wasting away while I unbuttoned my shorts to relieve the pudge that was growing underneath my not-Hollister, mom clothing. I wanted to BARF. THEY needed to eat.

"C'mon, honey, have some fries, a milkshake, SOMETHING that will make you weigh more than my purse!"

I found some great sales after asking a nice kid for help. The kid who then walked us to the register because he had lost his voice from screaming "What's up?" and repeated directions to the Hollister-virgin customers all day.

I know, I know. I should not be school shopping for ME but I have to say, I got sucked into the Hollister haze and wanted to wear the word, too! Of course, that feeling quickly faded when I held up a t-shirts that could have doubled as a sock on this mom body.

They got shirts.

I got perfume and pretended each squirt would airbrush me to the size of that $@!#! poster girl!
Still squirting...

NOTHIN’!

Peace out, Mamas!

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