I’m not a whiny girl, but I do have a few pet peeves. Those who know me well know my number one pet peeve is tardiness. If I’m late for something, I’m about to have an anxiety attack. If someone else is late, I’m about to scream my head off. Odd for someone who is so calm and laid back!
What got me thinking about pet peeves today is jeans. I would like to have a new pair of jeans. But I hate shopping for jeans. It’s almost as bad as shopping for bras and swimsuits. You can try on a dozen different pairs and MAYBE one will fit right. I found a store, though, that has great fitting jeans in my size, that wash well and last a long time. That’s good news right? Not so much. The store is White House Black Market. I love that store! They are pricey, but they have quality clothes in the colors I like – black, white, blue and they do truly wear well. I only buy my jeans there. My very BIG pet peeve about shopping at White House (at least in my local store) is the exhausting attention they give you.
I’m not a big fan of attention. So it’s unfortunate for me that as soon as I walk in the door, I have an instant best friend that stays by my side the entire time. I can’t “browse” for jeans because I’m asked right away what it is I’m looking for. As soon as my new best friend knows what I’m shopping for, I have every style and color of jeans in the dressing. It’s a special dressing room too because she writes my name on. And just like magic, I also have shirts, blouses, jackets, and anything else that might look good with jeans in my special room too. They even provide me with slimming tanks so all the lumps and bumps I have are smoothed out before I try on clothes. How thoughtful. And then there’s the shoes. I’m given a lovely pair of ridiculously pointy high heals to wear when I try on my jeans. I usually have to do a double take cuz I swear I walked in the store with a pair of shoes on my feet.
When I’m finally in my special dressing room, I’m breathing a little easier, being alone and all. But then I hear cheering coming from the other side of my door. My new best friend has gathered all her co-worker friends and they are trying to get me to come out and show off my new outfits. They obviously don’t know who they are dealing with. I yell out, “no, I’m good”. I’ve succumbed to that call before. You go out there and all your new best friends are smiling and telling you how cute your butt looks your new jeans. No thank you. I may not be able to see my butt all by myself in that little room, but I’m staying put. And I’m not trying on anything else in that room except the jeans I came in there to get. That’ll teach them.
So that’s my pet peeve. I just want my jeans, people. I’m not someone who is so easily swayed by cute clothes and compliments that I would spent hundred and hundreds of dollars on outfits when I only need jeans. It’s insulting actually. I don’t need help finding entire outfits. I don’t need my name on a dressing room door. I love shoes and probably have a cute pair on my feet. I don’t need a used pair in the dressing room. I don’t need you to tell me my butt looks cute. I won’t believe you anyway because you’re paid to say that. I don’t need you to find me accessories to go with the other clothes I’m not even going to try on. All I want is jeans. Just jeans.