Yesterday I went shopping with the GF at TJ Maxx. I’ve blogged before about how much I hate buying clothes and about my complete inadequacy at figuring out what goes with which. But I now believe I’m starting to get the hang of it. When I first bought clothes on my own I subscribed to the “do no harm” philosophy and ended up with a closet full of beige and brown – most of which was too big for me because I never tried anything on and like to think of myself as a large when I am (at best) a medium. I refer to this as my “Mr. Potato Head” period.
It has been difficult for the GF to get me to trust her on fashion advice, as she would no doubt testify. There have been multiple occasions where she would present me with a shirt that I would laugh at because it had some wacky pattern or because it was pink or because I thought it was the wrong size. Yet, time after time I came out of the store with clothes that I liked. Even weirder is that I get complimented on my fine fashion sense, which I’m never really comfortable with. I always respond to said compliments with a smooth, debonair comment like “I didn’t pick it out” or “It wasn’t my idea” or “Oh my God look over there it’s a pack of hyenas, RUN!”. Anything to avoid having to admit I knew anything about fashion.
After all these successful trips to the Maxx (and Marshall’s) my closet is rapidly transforming from a laughable collection of aspiring rags to that of someone who knows their way around designer apparel. As the good stuff goes in, the GF takes unusual pleasure in playing her new favorite game – “Pick What Gets Tossed”. For every item of clothing that I acquire, she gets to pick what it’s replacing*. This ensures that I still have enough clothes to rotate over a long enough period. If I didn’t enforce this rule, she would have tossed everything in my closet after the first shopping trip, leaving me with three shirts and two pairs of pants which is not enough considering we didn’t buy socks that time.
With the transformation of my closet I’m now worrying that people will begin to think I know something about how to dress myself. So I’m actually working hard to learn as much as I can. As a sign of my success I picked out three shirts on my own yesterday which met with the GF’s approval. I was very proud of myself. Soon I’ll be the male equivalent of Sarah Jessica Parker - except without the hair, the legs, and the Matthew Broderick.
*This last round has her very excited to phase out my last beige shirt. It was a little frightening because in addition to just getting rid of it she was talking about torturing it. She was uttering phrases like "permanent marker", "lighter fluid" and "exposed sparks". I attribute this sudden vigor to her new hair color, which she just got yesterday and is totally hot - but that's a whole other posting.
It has been difficult for the GF to get me to trust her on fashion advice, as she would no doubt testify. There have been multiple occasions where she would present me with a shirt that I would laugh at because it had some wacky pattern or because it was pink or because I thought it was the wrong size. Yet, time after time I came out of the store with clothes that I liked. Even weirder is that I get complimented on my fine fashion sense, which I’m never really comfortable with. I always respond to said compliments with a smooth, debonair comment like “I didn’t pick it out” or “It wasn’t my idea” or “Oh my God look over there it’s a pack of hyenas, RUN!”. Anything to avoid having to admit I knew anything about fashion.
After all these successful trips to the Maxx (and Marshall’s) my closet is rapidly transforming from a laughable collection of aspiring rags to that of someone who knows their way around designer apparel. As the good stuff goes in, the GF takes unusual pleasure in playing her new favorite game – “Pick What Gets Tossed”. For every item of clothing that I acquire, she gets to pick what it’s replacing*. This ensures that I still have enough clothes to rotate over a long enough period. If I didn’t enforce this rule, she would have tossed everything in my closet after the first shopping trip, leaving me with three shirts and two pairs of pants which is not enough considering we didn’t buy socks that time.
With the transformation of my closet I’m now worrying that people will begin to think I know something about how to dress myself. So I’m actually working hard to learn as much as I can. As a sign of my success I picked out three shirts on my own yesterday which met with the GF’s approval. I was very proud of myself. Soon I’ll be the male equivalent of Sarah Jessica Parker - except without the hair, the legs, and the Matthew Broderick.
*This last round has her very excited to phase out my last beige shirt. It was a little frightening because in addition to just getting rid of it she was talking about torturing it. She was uttering phrases like "permanent marker", "lighter fluid" and "exposed sparks". I attribute this sudden vigor to her new hair color, which she just got yesterday and is totally hot - but that's a whole other posting.
Comments
For some reason, they always make every guy look very gay. I hope your GF isn't making you wear those stupid dress shirts with all the stripes and jeans. Ubergay, if you know what I mean.