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| - For me, the odd thing about clothes shopping is that the most expensive items I come across tend to be the things I least want to wear.
All I pined for was a somewhat dressy top to wear for an upcoming function, something that would look tasteful with a classy pair of jeans I already own.
The first shirt I see is pink with bold, blue stripes. An abomination, it's $65.
I spy another shirt, equally horrid, this one white and sporting...dots. $50.
A brown v-neck sweater halfway catches my eye. It might work, but it's $40.
After pulling back hangers for another 20 minutes, I spot a black, long-sleeved pullover. Unlike the majority of what I view populating the racks, it's masculine as opposed to emasculating. I won't look like a grade school math teacher in it. No dweeb would wear it. It's elegant, simple. It's in my size. It's so...very... me! It's only $14!
The sales associate who rang us out Saturday evening scanned a coupon, taking another $2 off.
As Kay pays for it, she says, "This is your weekend and my treat, Sexy Man."
Can one put a price on that?
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