Changing room mirrors - they are the end, aren’t they? Can I hear a whoop, some foot stamping and some cheers? No? Sorry, I thought I was doing American stand-up, circa 1985 then...But changing rooms are notorious for their unflattering, unforgiving lighting, curtains that never quite fit the gap and a strange, life-sapping atmosphere. It’s a cliche (and gross exaggeration) that you come out of that cubicle wanting to slit your wrists.
However, I have recently become aware of a reverse phenomenon - the Flattering Changing Room experience. This is marketing genius, it fools you into thinking that you look fabulous and that everything you try on looks amazing, so much so that it is really hard to decide what to buy, because all of it looks so good. Until you get home….
Let me elaborate. I went shopping yesterday, having rushed out of the house in the morning with an hour to spare before I had to pick my daughter up from nursery. I wandered aimlessly around one shop, lamenting the fact that high necked, floral patterned blouses seem to be all the rage this year. The floral patterns in question look like the curtains from a Mr. Man book. (And a high-necked blouse is the natural enemy of the bigger-than-an-A-cup woman).
I then proceeded to one of my go-to shops, full of cheap clobber, grabbed an armful of stuff, went into a cubicle and something miraculous happened - I liked everything I tried on!
I had left the house that morning without make-up, which isn’t unusual but I do sometimes regret this when I go into a shop and my morale takes a nosedive. I hadn’t had time to dry my hair properly or style it in any way so it looked like a child’s drawing of some hair - all wiggly lines. But the lighting in that changing room must have had special filters because, in that cubicle, I felt good; my skin had the healthy glow of a shiny russet apple (not bad when you've been fighting off a cold all week) and my hair didn’t look shit. I tried on this smocky type thing and I liked it.
Usually I avoid those loose, smocky-type tops because they look like maternity wear but yesterday I felt kind of stylish in it. I bought that smock and some other voluminous thing and some pyjamas and I felt a surge of pure happiness, perhaps akin to what a drug addict feels when they take their first hit. (Maybe, I'm not trying to mock anyone for having a dependency)
The come-down came later on when, getting ready to go out, I put that smocky-type thing on. It didn't look loose and stylish and a little bit arty. It looked distinctly like Maternity Wear.
“Does this make me look pregnant?” I asked the old man.
“Er, do you want me to be honest?” He asked, warily.
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s not very shaped, is it? It doesn’t really do anything for you. We’ve all watched Gok Wan, we know that things should be shaped to be flattering.”
He was echoing what I had suspected and I lamented my own stupidity for wasting my money and buying into the illusion; that temporary illusion that purchasing something would somehow enhance my life. (Or make me feel better about myself) This, my friends - is Capitalism and I really should know better by now.
P.S I wore the top anyway. Perhaps I was being perverse, or maybe just trying to get my money's worth. Anyway, no one asked if I really ought to be drinking or when the happy day was, so I think I got away with it.
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