Tag Archives: women

Move over, lady having a good day coming through

Standard

I had a spare hour in between jobs today so I decided to go have a look at a factory outlet that someone at work had recommended to me. I parked my car in front of a quaint well cared for early 1900s mini house in the side street near the store. I eyed off the big flourishing fruit tree abundant with green citrus in the middle of the sweet old houses’s front yard. The house seemed to be surrounded by bigger more imposing properties, but the house held it’s own in loveliness. I was feeling good, semi-normal at least. This house was inspiring me with a writing idea so I decided to take a photo.

Cute old houseThe bus parked on the side of the road should have been a warning sign. I noticed it, but the reality of what that bus meant didn’t really hit until I went inside.

TS14+ logoAt this point I should explain that this shop that I was about to enter was a clearance store/factory outlet for TS14+and their associated brands. TS14+ is a clothing chain that has loose, artsy, cleverly designed clothing for women, size 12-24. I have recently become very attracted to their clothing range, buying many things online and in person at a large department store. Their clothes are comfortable, not tight, non-clingy, they have a lot of variety and different styles to suit a range of women. Plus, choosing a size S is nice for a change, especially for a person who has never felt good about her size.

 

Anyway, going in, the throng of shopping noise slapped me in the face. My plan was to have a wander at an easy pace and just see what they had in stock. Well, that worked for a little while until I started to take in what was happening around me. “Anna, Anna, are you still here?” yelled someone, with the beginning of panic in their voice. “Yessss, Anna here” came the reply in a distinctive choppy Asian-English voice.  My intuition told me the second voice was the tour guide. I then realised how big the store was, how full of racks it was, and how many people were inside.

Sometimes I think my senses can’t handle too much noise. Lucky today I was feeling OK because this place was crazy town and the noise  was at level:silly.

I left a couple of things I was interested in on the racks, no, hurry. Wandering down the back I saw people with red plastic baskets on wheels with long black handles. And their baskets were ridiculously laden with clothes. These bus people are buying up big, I thought. How lovely for a traveller to stock up in the big city. I stood at a rack debating in my mind for ages about a black top that I liked the look of but had no purpose for.

Then it all changed.

TS 14+ sale

“Hey everyone, just explaining, the 50% off is off the marked price, not the original selling price. You have to take the price in red writing and then take 50% off that. I know that sounds unbelievable, but, it’s true. Enjoy your shopping.”

I looked at the top in my hand. Black typed price:$79. Red writing:$39. That makes this a $20 top. Really?

That’s when my body decided to shop at a different pace. I needed a red basket on wheels. I went back to the front desk and interjected on a shop assistant with her back to me, who was serving someone, to ask for a red basket. None left. Of course not. I would just have to carry my things. I went back and found a top I liked when I first arrived but debated the price. Definitely had to have it now. I went up and down the packed clothing racks and the tiny aisles, bumping into people, dropping items off racks accidentally. For a store that sells to middle and larger sizes the racks were placed far too close together.  However, to have this much bargain stock at hand was a true find for anyone. I am sure shoppers wouldn’t care how difficult it was to navigate, they would still manage to shop with a fervour. They came in the bus loads, a tiny aisle was nothing.

It’s funny how people connect in shared experiences. Another lady shopper and I had a giggle and exchanged funny comments when two women in a dressing room discussed the unfortunate sagging of one’s boobs, loudly enough for those in the vicinity to hear. “Ladies please remember there are other ladies out here waiting for dressing rooms. Please be quick with trying on so other ladies can get in the rooms.” One of the shop assistants was pacing back and forth in front of the dressing room curtains. Looking back, that must have been just before the bus left.

By the time I had lapped the store two and a half times there was no problem finding a dressing room. I went into the end one. I could take my time. Usually I conserve energy (or spoons, whichever you prefer) and try on as little as possible. There wasn’t even any guesswork here, I know their sizing. I started out this way but I didn’t feel tired so I tried everything on. I even went back and changed one dress for an XS to try on, and it fit! I didn’t get everything that I had in my basket before trying on, but 11 items purchased isn’t bad, is it?

I started to worry that I would run short of time on my next job, and have no energy left to do it, but neither happened. What a surprise packet of fun this little stopover was.

Advertisements

Women of a certain age

Standard
Women of a certain age

What does that mean- women of a certain age?

I was busily dottering around my house today when this phrase jumped into my head.

Why, oh why? Who is this woman of a certain age. This is not me- or is it?

Am I starting to act this way? Like a little girl trying on heels and clumping around, practising what she will inevitably do once teenager hood hits and she can’t wait to take on makeup and heels and long jewellery and handbags. Even those of us who were not really “girly girls” we were drawn to practise nonetheless. As I entered teenager hood Madonna brought a new rebel version of womanhood, thankfully. I still remember jumping off my bus once it hit the city, to head into the amazing accessories shop that had an abundance of rubber bracelets, especially in my beloved black.

Anyway, I digress. Women of a certain age. Who are these women? What do they do that sets them apart? I looked it up. Urban dictionary came to my rescue, of course.

Woman of a Certain Age:
Ironically polite term for a woman who does not want her actual age known, e.g. one who is close to or just over the menopause. Things which define women of a certain age are: exceptionally gaudy clothing, homeopathy and aromatherapy, sensible haircuts, books on feminism, affairs with paper boys, and coffee mornings.

(http://www.urbandictionary.com)

OMG exceptionally gaudy clothing. I think it’s me. I’m wearing utter crap. I actually often wear daggy clothing. But now that’s a sign I’m nearing menopause. Really?

Homeopathy and aromatherapy? What because women of a certain age smell? Or like to smell nice smells more than others? Really? I have candles. Sometimes they are lit, many times they are not.

Sensible haircuts. No I fail at that one. I’m not there yet that’s for sure. I have crazy hair. My Mother has a sensible haircut. She’s obviously a woman of a certain age.

Books on feminism? Who has these? University lecturers maybe? Negative, out of over 1000 books in my house there’s not one on feminism. That doesn’t mean I don’t support feminism though. Because I do. I follow “Destroy the Joint” on Facebook, maybe that counts? But I follow lots of different social justice issues. Oh dear. Does that mean I’m old, well, a woman of a certain age?

Affairs with paper boys? Shit I wish, lol. Probably should try getting the paper delivered. But in my area I think there’s an older man who delivers the papers. Fail.

Coffee mornings? That would require being out and about in a morning hour, and possibly having friends. I have trouble on both counts.

Close to or just over the menopause? I don’t think this characteristic works. Not to get too technical, but menopause can happen to a 40 year old even though the average age of menopause is 51. Unless of course, we think women’s behaviour changes with their hormones. Noooooo.

And finally, a woman who does not want her actual age known. I don’t mind telling my age. But when I turn 43 or 44 or 45 I’m not sure. (I wrote this post thinking I was 42 but then remembered I’m only 41. Does forgetting your age count towards being a woman of a certain age? Bugger).

According to the definitive checklist on urban dictionary I don’t completely fit the description of a woman of a certain age. Yet I’ve started vaguely wandering around in my own world and I thought that would be a sure sign. Could wondering what a woman of a certain age is, actually be the beginning of transformation into said woman?

What I think really is necessary is a new definition of a woman of a certain age. Then I’ll be able to move on.

Woman of a certain age:
A woman who, through living a full and interesting life for many years, has decided to not give a shit about what anyone thinks. She does what she wants when she wants, buys what she loves, dresses in a way that pleases her, pursues activities that are personally rewarding and enjoys life with no restriction. A woman of a certain age leads a happy and fulfilling life at her own pace and according to her own priorities.

(Definition by me, 2014)

Phew. I’m good now. I’m heading that way, but have not yet reached the age of being a woman of a certain age. I know this because I’m still getting all my ideas for living my life in line. But now I know what I’m destined for, I can’t wait!