If Brown is the New Black, I Have a Serious Bone to Pick

I didn’t go looking for NY&Co., they came looking for me. When I first got a real job which required grown up clothes, I started shopping at Lerner. Probably because there was a store very close to my apartment, which had great sales with the added bonus of never being crowded. I apparently got on their email list, because they send me coupons once or twice a month now. I can’t resist a coupon that says “take $30.00 off any $75.00 purchase.” Ooh – I just got an adrenaline rush thinking about it. I have walked out of there before and seen on my receipt that I saved more money than I actually spent. So necessity turned into habit turned into addiction, and here I am today.

Yesterday all of the planets must have aligned because I received a coupon, Christine’s baby shower is this weekend and I had nothing to wear, and the NY&Co. had just reopened after their remodel.

I drove over after work (I think it is very dangerous that I work exactly 2 blocks from a mall) and I was all excited. I stepped into the NY&Co. and simultaneously stepped into a tear in the space/time continuum, because I was suddenly 13 again and shopping at RAVE. After recovering from the de ja vu, my senses were literally bombarded all at once. The walls and floors were bright white and the music was so loud that I couldn’t open my eyes all the way. Oh, and the best part was that all the clothes were ugly, slutty, or a combination of the two. I probably spent 45 minutes walking around and around because I was determined to find something to wear, dammit. The fall clothes were out and apparently everything is going to be brown this season. I don’t hate brown; it’s just that my love for black is overwhelming. I have a strict code of ethics by which I live my life. The list is very long, but examples include not using the word “ain’t,” not exposing my midriff or stomach in public, not drinking beer before liquor, and not buying a pair of brown shoes and a brown purse to go with one skirt that I may wear twice in my life. I do not exaggerate when I say that every accessory I own is black, or has black in it.

I finally gave up and left the store. Empty handed, but with a brand new migraine. I just hope I don’t embarrass Christine on Saturday when I show up in my favorite pajama pants and last year’s black purse and black shoes.