I was going out of town on a trip. Like most women, I had nothing to wear, or at least nothing that seemed good enough to wear. All my clothes were a bit on the shabby side with those little pills that appear on garments or hemlines that fashion has
left behind.

This meant one thing — time to go shopping.

I used to love shopping for clothes. I could spend hours at the mall just looking and trying things on. However, the older I get — and the fatter — the less appealing shopping for clothes has become. I hate trying things on only to find that they are too small, make me look even fatter, or are just not my style.

Nevertheless, I dragged myself to the mall determined that I would find some new clothes to wear even if it killed me. After all, I didn’t want to go out of town looking like last year’s closet.

At the department store, I selected what I thought was a nice outfit, held it up in front of me and looked in the mirror. Another shopper was watching. “No, that doesn’t look good,” she said. “You need more color.”

I was a bit surprised, but she was right. “Here try this one,” she suggested, handing me a turquoise top and skirt. I had to admit that it did do more for me than what I had picked.

She selected another skirt. “I know where I can get a top to go with this,” she said, disappearing across the store. I continued to shop thinking she was gone.

“No brown,” she said, appearing behind me, “Something brighter.” I put back the dress I was looking at.

“I never match print tops and bottoms; it makes you look 70 years old,” she said. I put back the print skirt and top, feeling very old.

The next thing I knew, she was following me around picking out other outfits for me to try on. What’s with this lady? Is she a sales clerk? No, she was a customer too.

“I love to shop!” she told me. Apparently, her fashion sense extended to other shoppers as well. “What occasion are you shopping for?” she asked. I told her what I had in mind. Soon I had an armload of clothes to try on.

I escaped to the dressing room and tried everything on. Almost everything worked. When I came out, she asked how they looked, and I admitted that I was buying several of the outfits.

“You should be a personal shopper,” I said.

I hid behind the dress racks so I could pick out my own clothes. But everything I picked was navy. In fact, nearly everything in my closet is navy. I had noticed that before I came shopping.

Guess I am in a fashion rut and needed someone to help me out. I was going to give the lady my business card in case she showed up in one of my blogs, but when I came out of the dressing room for the last time, she was gone.

I don’t know what ever happened to her. Maybe she was a guardian fashion angel, or something. Whatever it was, it worked out okay.

While I was out of town, I did some shopping on my own. There was a Goodwill store right next to the hotel. They had some great bargains. Now that I am in the mood, I am finding all kinds of things.

There is a yard sell in my neighborhood next weekend, and I might even go shopping again. I love bargains! Could that be part of my problem?

If my guardian fashion angel is watching, I hope I don’t pick out anything that will embarrass her.

Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss