Tuesday, April 6, 2010

having a moment

Warning: I'm about to say something incredibly rude and you can't slap me over the internet.

You know what drives me seriously nuts? When you're standing on line for the dressing room at H&M and you only have 3 items to try on and the line, as it always is, is all the way to the men's department, and everyone in front of you is holding more than the 8 maximum item limit plus accessories that they need to leave with the dressing room lady and then take her away from assigning dressing rooms after they're done because for some reason the employees can never figure out where they stash the accessories that you can't take with you into the dressing room. (How many times did I just use dressing room in one sentence?) Whenever I go to H&M I have to assume that at least 25 minutes will be wasted waiting to try on the clothes and then another 25 on the line to pay. But that's not the part that annoys me. That is time already factored in to my decision to shop at H&M (double that time if I choose to shop at the Herald Square location). What drives me nuts is when you get almost to the front of the line where you're standing in the fitting room area just staring at the doors with the numbers on them, willing them to open, and you see the girls who come out shoeless, half dressed in their own clothes, and half in something with tags, and they're waiting for their friend in another room to come out and help them decide on the item displayed on their body. The culprit, the one who, once she got to the dressing room, magically forgot how long she waited for the room and how there's new people waiting just as long for the room, is usually a teenage girl trying on something that would land her on a Fashion Don't List had she been a celebrity. It's drives me fucking nuts that this person A) is committing crimes against fashion and B) can't make a goddamned decision on what looks bad on her body without wasting everyone's time twirling in front of a 3 way mirror and waiting for her friend's opinion. I just want to scream, "That looks fucking horrible on you, get new friends that won't lie to you, and get the hell out of the dressing room!"

There. I'm sorry. I feel better now.

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