My sister and I share many things in common–our looks, our taste in clothes, our size, etc.–but one thing we do not share is a propensity for shopping. I love it. Rachel hates it. That means that Rachel is the virtuous and frugal sister, while I am the superficial spendthrift (I’d also like to point out that my Biblical namesake, from the Old Testament story of Rachel and Leah, is the ugly, nearsighted one, while Rachel is the comely woman whom Jacob desires.)
Despite Rachel’s distaste for spending money–and spending any time in a mall–she and I did do a little shopping while we were in Madison last weekend, and now I can understand why she hates it! I think the salesclerks in Madison were among the bitchiest I’d ever seen. At Anthropologie, with its overpriced frilly frocks and Bohemian housewares, the women could barely be troubled to shift their lovely gazes down upon us. At J. Crew, there was an opposite effect: The young women working there were openly looking me up and down in judgment and distaste. Express? The beautiful, vapid, blonde thing looked–oh, just here, there, and everywhere–but could not seem to find the VAST table full of tank tops when I requested a different size for Rachel. And on and on it went.
That’s why, at the end of this outing, I had spent only $40 (and $20 of it was on clothing for Ava), while Rachel had spent quite a tidy little sum. She still could never top me in overall yearly spending, but I was quite restrained, I thought. And Mark owes all those bitchy clerks a big high five for putting me off of shopping for at least one day. I’m down but not out, baby!