I want to shop. You see, shopping and I are childhood friends. As a kid, our family outings revolved around shopping. My parents were not like parents today. We went where THEY wanted to go. And on weekends, that meant Ottawa and the brand new Rideau Centre. I remember countless Friday nights wandering through Ottawa's magazine stores or trying on itchy, uncomfortable, overpriced kids clothes. When we travelled to Toronto, we didn't visit the CN Tower, we visited the Eaton Centre.
It probably had something to do with my grandfather, Eli, owning a clothing store. My mom spent her childhood visiting Montreal and Toronto's garment districts. As a result, we spent alot of time tryin on dresses, sweaters, hats, shoes and more dresses. Accomplishments were celebrated with new outfits; breakups were comforted by new clothes. As an adult, I fight the urge to hit the mall when my mood dictates. Sometimes I'm a winner, other times I'm @ Winners.
These days, the urge is deafening. You see, my body is changing. Daily hormone shots and pills are contributing to some welcomed and not so welcomed changes. Nic would like for me to mention my boobs. There, I mentioned it, moving on.
What's different about my need to shop these days, "need" being the operative word, is that I'm not coveting shoes and cute dresses, no, I'm thinking elastic bands and jersey t-shirts! Anything to avoid spending they day at my desk with the top button of my pants undone as I did today.
I wonder if my mom knows any good stores?
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