Ever Wonder Why I Hate To Shop?

When I was a kid the only time you got new clothes was a few things at Christmas and the majority when school started in the fall. The routine was something like this. We would get in the car and head to JC Penny where after what seems like many hours we went home with exactly the same stuff we bought last year, except newer. The list was always the same. Six pairs of briefs, six pairs of socks, two pairs of Levi’s (never the Levi brand because they were too much money) one pair of shoes and a few t-shirts. None of the clothes ever fit, nor were they designed to. As I look back on it now, the rationale was that anything that fit today would be too small tomorrow. Never mind that the pants legs were six inches too long. You were expected to grow into it. Just as I was getting to the point where things were suppose to fit, they wore out and/or fell off. I always had two pair of shoes; one for everyday and one for Sunday best. When the every days wore out they got resoled or a new heel put on and a little polish made them fit for formal wear. When they finally fell apart, the old ones got tossed and the Sunday best became the everydays. It was then time to go buy new shoes. I always enjoyed the process of the shoes because our store had an x-ray machine you could put your feet into and see where the bones were in relation to the shape of the shoes. Someone finally found a relationship between too much x-ray exposure and death and the machines disappeared from the stores.


Last week I went into a Red Wing Shoe store in West Valley Utah to buy a new pair of shoes. There were three construction workers already there trying on a variety of work boots. They had a job at Kennecott Copper mine and were turned away from the work site because they didn’t have the proper safety footwear. Their employer gave them a purchase order and off they went to the shoe store. The scene took me back to my childhood. Boy were they excited. They tried different boots, traded what they thought was good with the co-workers, raved about how comfortable the boots were, traded again. One big guy got so excited he had to use the restroom three times. The only thing missing from the scene was the Back to School sign in the window.

I remember when I was no longer excited about buying clothes, and for that matter shopping period. When I entered junior high school, my mother took us to JC Penny’s for the annual event. An event I might add, that turned out to be the last time I ever went shopping with either parent. My mother denies the circumstances of the events, but total recall of the day is so burned into my memory that there can be no error in the telling. My 13 year old brother, who had already been to junior high school, had been dating since the age of 11 and could grow full beard over a weekend, reminded my mother that since I was going to be taking PE I would need certain equipment.

My mother spotted a clerk twelve rows over, and in the loudest voice I ever remember my mother using, and pointing directly at me, shouted “Hey! We need a jockey strap for this boy right here. And you better make it an extra small”. No hint of ever growing into this piece of clothing. From that day forward I did my own shopping for clothes.

Thanks for listening, I feel much better.