Missing the Shopping Gene

"Win or lose, we go shopping after the election."

----Imelda Marcos

Imelda Marcos was not a woman that I respected or admired; however, she did have some serious shoe game. And I love me some shoes, for sure.  This quote caught my eye because someone told me that no matter what the election results, when it was over, I should go out and buy myself a little something as a treat. The point of that seems lost on me, but whatever. It's as if everyone around me likes to shop, even if it's not actually necessary. My daughter keeps a running list of what she "needs" for clothes, accessories. and whatever else is covering the floor in her room. Friends of mine are world-class mall rats, who will drive an hour or more to get to one particular shop that has a purse or a pair of jeans they want.  It's not my gig though; it's never been fun. Perhaps I am missing the shopping gene because I hate jean shopping?

Part of the reason is an extreme pickiness that I just can't shake. It's one thing to say, "Gee, I really need a red blouse" and then go get one. That's what normal people do. What I do is not normal, or it doesn't seem so anyway. First, there are the online options. Because staying home in my jammies with my pug on my lap and Netflix on for background noise is my jam. That's much more appealing to me than finding a parking spot and hoofing it around some poorly lit, climate controlled, consumer zoo with Muzak and cinnamon buns the size of a spare tire. Sadly, my closet has a fair number of things purchased online that will never see the light of day. There are no dressing rooms or mirrors in online shopping, and while that can be a bonus, it's not efficient.

Eventually I have to leave the bubble, but still, it's a mission for me, not a hobby. There's a goal, an objective, and everything that's involved in a shopping trip is supposed to be in furtherance of that goal. There's no need to go to brunch first, for instance. Grab a Power Bar and go, because the sooner you get back, the sooner you can throw on the sweats and get back to binge-watching The Crown. Speaking of, the royal family knows how to shop. When the Queen needs a new hat, the store comes to her,  she points at a few things, and it's done. Since it's unlikely I will ever be a royal, it's the mall for me.

While being to see and touch and try on clothes is a better way to make sure you get what you want, my issue is I don't know what the heck I want.  Oh, a green scarf? Sure. But it can't be light green, teal, mint or anything close to blue.  It can't have tassels or fringe; it will bug me if it has things hanging off it. I'm a girl on a budget too, so it can't cost too much, because even if it's perfect and exactly the right thing, the guilt will arrive with the credit card bill. The one time I found a perfect scarf, turns out it was a Christmas table runner. Wish I had known that before that office party.  My mother was very wise and said when you find something you love, buy lots of it. Tried that Ma, except they were French fries and that's part of the reason I wound up with something that goes on a piece of furniture.

While we can all live without shopping for items that aren't necessary, what happens when you need a new winter coat, or, God forbid, a bathing suit? That's when it gets ugly for me. I need a new winter coat, have for the last two winters. The reason for that is that there IS no winter coat on the planet that I deem acceptable. Which is ridiculous but true. The details of the right size pockets, hood or no hood, fur trim or not, belted or not, what color, what brand and, of course, the price, fly around my head, making it impossible to find something suitable. It would be awesome if shopping were something fun and easy for me. It's never going to be that way, however. For now, I keep trying, usually frantically texting pictures of items to friends, while I paw through the racks, with questions like, "Does this look like someone's couch?" My latest quest is for a watch, but I know exactly which one to choose: the Rolex, with the Tiffany blue face and diamond bezel. Maybe I’m not that picky after all? Clearly, that isn't happening, so the search continues. Oh, and if anyone has Rolex coupons, let me know.

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been

So…what’s new? Did you miss me? Ha! Kidding, of course. For the record, I have missed writing in this space, and it’s great to be back. Because the Wicked Local/Marblehead Reporter staff is so fantastic, the decision was made to suspend this column during my campaign for school committee. No candidate should have the advantage of weekly ink, so a break was best, and this paper is lucky to have editors and staff that have the integrity to know that. 

The totals are out now, and it’s clear that I did not win a seat, but it doesn’t matter, they have a full board now, and everyone on it will be awesome. What I learned running for office was worth every minute of the last six weeks. First off, I was not paying enough attention. I didn’t get into the race until the last day to file papers, and that’s on me. It may have been a late start, but hitting the ground running is a specialty of mine. Literally, every time I run, I eventually hit the ground. Wait, that’s not what that expression means is it? Anyway, when I ultimately decide to do something, I go full bore at it, much like Wile E. Coyote going over a cliff strapped to a rocket. My father, who was successful in all of his elections for school committee back in the day, always said, “Go big, or stay the hell home.”  OK, Dad, I did. And boy does that ground come up at you fast.

Now, I am educated; I earned a degree in English with a minor in Political science, but that was :::mumblemumble::: something years ago and none of those classes in constitutional law or political theory helped at all. Running for local office (and Tip O’Neill was right when he said all politics is local) is a process that while phenomenal, and a reminder that democracy lives, is one heck of a ride. Here’s what I learned.

1)    Tim Green at Ace Hardware is the helpful hardware man. If it were not for him, I would likely have put out an eye trying to load the heavy-duty stapler. I know I should all be all “Hear me roar” because capable women rock, but sorry, I grew up in the sixties, the only power tools I got to use were a hand mixer and a blender. Once I had it down though? I was a stapling champ with my signs and my posts.  Tory, another capable woman who, unlike me, can saw stuff in half and use a hammer without winding up the ER was there to help too, and it wouldn’t have happened without her.

2)    People are amazing. Sometimes. I had the great fortune to have good friends helping me, from running around in my car deploying signs, to coming to coffees and helping me organize events and social media. There were also a few who were not so amazing, but that’s what politics is. A whole bunch of people, all of whom have opinions. Clearly not everyone agreed with me on some issues, but that’s a good thing, in my opinion. If you want to have a real community where all are welcome in the process, you’re going to have those with whom you disagree. Talk to them anyway. And keep talking.

3)    Being on television, even a local access program, is gut-wrenching for someone like me with no fashion sense and no filter.  While there were only a few events that involved video, it was enough to send me into a writhing anxiety attack in front of my closet of boring mom clothes.  The League of Women Voters put on an amazing event to showcase the candidates, and my goal was to not get freaked out and let loose with my normal “colorful” vocabulary which is that of a well-educated sailor. Members of my family bet me I couldn’t do it. Ha, at least I won that round.

4)    Rain at 5pm on Election Day is a dream killer, especially when it comes with thunder and lightning. Many people vote after work, but in a downpour, not so much. And so it goes.

5)    Saying “I should” about something, but never actually doing it is for losers. So my campaign didn’t work out, so what? What did I lose? One thumbnail, a few bucks for signs and some votes. No biggy. I met people, I learned about a process from the inside out and I only fell down once, and thankfully I wasn’t carrying the stapler at the time. Don’t say, “I should” when “I will” is what is needed to make it happen. Good luck to all of our elected officials. They’re going to need it. In the meantime, what’s next?