Girl Confession: I Hate to Shop

Sometimes I worry I’m an embarrassment to girldom.


I mean, in many ways, I guess, I’m fairly girly – I love flowers; I own hairspray; and I’ll cry at any kind of movie that has Hugh Grant and some allusion to the word “forever.”


But in one way I feel I’m completely out of the loop, like a missed the flourish in the second X chromosome: I hate to shop. And I especially hate to shop for clothes.


I know, I know. You probably do. You probably know the difference between Manolos and Choos and even know how to spell them and make them plural. You can probably spot an Yves Saint Laurent skirt from a mile away. And you probably followed Vera Wang well before she landed in Kohls.


But I’m just missing this gene.


I know I must be a terrible disappointment. I’m sure my shopaholic mother swaddled me in a pink department-store blanket when I was born and thought, “Ah ha! A comrade in arms. …” Continue reading

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