Shopped 'til I dropped

My friend Sari took me clothes shopping today.

Going shopping with Sari is somewhat like being the other charioteer in "Ben-Hur." You know you're getting run over, the only question is when.

This girl is a professional shopper. Whereas, I am a rank amateur.

So this was like my own little episode of "What Not to Wear" from hell.

Look, as far as clothes-horses go, I'm more Mr. Ed than Secretariat. My idea of a good shirt is one that's clean and not too wrinkled.

My parents have bought me several nice, expensive, custom-made (for my shoulders!) dress shirts. But I never wear them. I'm petrified I'll spill something on them.

So most of my clothes... well, let's just say when I applied for my Express Men credit card, they asked if I wanted to reactivate my account from 1998, back when I was shopping at Structure. Upon reflection, I figured, why not? I still have one of those shirts I bought with it.

This of course, was after I spent most of an hour following Sari around, whimpering and carrying a small pile of clothing.

And she's so fashion-oriented, I'm pretty sure I heard her offering other customers advice while waiting for my various bunny-eyed trips out of the changing room for a thumbs-up/thumbs-down.

(Aside, it's pronounced Sari like "Larry," not "Sorry" ... It's Jewish, and means princess. Insert your own joke here.)

I haven't tried anything on in years (I know my size) but nonetheless, I found myself in a changing room, in my boxers and socks, pondering those reports of quasi-porn made from video cameras hidden behind mirrors in these rooms.

I don't think you'll be seeing any clips of me on the 'Net. I could barely get into the clothes without hurting myself. And one of the hangers bit me.

But now I'm dressed for success. Well, not today. Today I'm wearing a variety of things Sari said I should never wear near her again. Except the socks. (Well, and probably the boxers, but she's not that kind of friend.)

I suspect Michelle bought me this shirt, or rather, I bought it at her request/demand, which means a) it's freakin' old and untrendy by now; and b) apparently, the fashion-obsessed can disagree radically.

And c) there's always a woman around who thinks I dress like ass and is cheerfully happy to spend my money to fix that condition. At least this one's looking out for me. If "You didn't wear that shirt on a DATE, did you?" counts as looking out.

Sari promises when I have more money, she's going to redo my entire wardrobe. I'm thinking it's time to buy that $300 "Star Blazers" DVD set I've been craving, just so I don't have any for a while.

She said I was good today, outside of the whimpering, but I don't know how long I can keep up the facade.

Links:
• Name definitions: Look under "Sarah," and you'll find "Sari"
• A breakdown of the "Ben-Hur" chariot race stunts
• Express, where my wallet was smoking by the end

I went looking for a "Star Blazers" link, but the one for the company selling the DVDs didn't work today. I hope that's not a bad sign... I really do want that set.