Amber McNaught‘s weekly column on just married life…
I went shopping last week. I had been planning it for weeks. Money had been saved, clothes and shoes had been drooled over, my closet had been cleared (well, sort of). I was looking forward to a lengthy browse around the shops, during which I would take my time, picking things up, putting them back down again, doubling back to shops I’d already been into, walking miles to ones I hadn’t‘t yet been into, and, finally, going back to where I started and buying the first thing I’d tried on. You know how it goes.
There was just one problem with my grand plan: my husband decided to come with me.
“You do know I’ll be shopping for hours?” I pointed out, worriedly, in the car.
“Oh yes,” said he. “That’s fine.”
“No, really – hours,” I emphasised. He said it was fine: that he would do some shopping while he waited. I spotted the flaw in this plan immediately.
My husband, you see, likes to buy all his clothes from the same shop. That shop is TK Maxx, and he likes it because it is both cheap and “quirky”. He is all about the quirky. I, on the other hand, like to shop from multiple outlets, with no favouritism shown. I knew exactly what would happen: we’d both head off to our respective first ports of call. By the time I was ready to move on to my second port of call, however, my husband would have finished all of his shopping and would be ready to go home. This is how it always is.
Men, you see, don’t tend to view shopping as “fun”. Or the ones I know don’t anyway. They see it as a competition to find out who can finish first. My husband wins this one every time, meaning that I’m then forced to spend the rest of my lovely shopping trip with him following me around like a puppy, or hovering over me going, “What is that, is it a top or dress?” and “but you already have a pair of black shoes, why do you need another pair?” This shopping trip, I was sure, would be no different.
I was wrong, though. You see, I had reckoned without the summer sales. The shops I went into were crammed full of little skirts and dresses, none of which were of the slightest use to me on account of the fact that we’re not actually having “summer” in the UK any more, and have decided to proceed straight to Autumn, without passing “Go” or collecting $200. For the first time in my life, I was finished shopping before my husband – and was forced to hover over him like a bat saying things like, “you better not be planning to wear those socks with the sandals you bought last month” and other annoying things.
I’m not sure if it’s marriage that has brought about this reversal in our shopping roles, but I’m not sure I like it. On the other hand, I guess it gives me even more of an excuse to shop…
Amber McNaught is a freelance writer and regular Shiny contributor. She got married in March and hasn’t stopped talking about it since. Oh, and she totally DID need those black shoes…