I Only Came In to Look….

“I’m just looking.”

An excellent opening statement. Calm. Sensible. Completely unsupported by what happens next.

Five minutes later, you are holding something against yourself in a mirror.

Ten minutes later, you have invented an occasion.

There may even be a conversation about whether you already own something similar. You do, obviously. But the person asking has failed to appreciate several essential differences.

The fitting room has its own version of reality.

You enter wearing an ordinary outfit and carrying an ordinary bag.

Then someone brings you a jacket.

You try it with the trousers. Someone suggests different shoes. Suddenly, you are considering a life in which you regularly arrive somewhere dressed like this.

Where, exactly?

We can establish that later.

I find this part entertaining: the way a garment can suggest an entire afternoon before you have checked the washing instructions.

Then comes the useful question.

Would I actually wear it?

With something I already own? Somewhere I actually go? While doing something other than standing very still under flattering lighting?

I want to know what happens when I move.

Can I reach into my bag? Does the fabric sit properly when I turn? Am I admiring the clothes, or enjoying how I feel in them?

Sometimes the answer is immediate.

Sometimes I realise I have been negotiating with a sleeve for six minutes.

That is usually my cue to leave it behind.

But occasionally, something works so well that the original plan becomes irrelevant.

You leave the shop carrying a bag.

“I thought you were only looking?”

I was.

Very thoroughly.

And when the fitting room produces a spectacular coat, here is how I like to wear it.

Silvia