To the Mall, Y’all

Ye s t e r day, Gene and I did something we haven’t done in ages—we actually went to a mall. It sounds quite quaint, doesn’t it? Like saying we rode to the big city on a horse and buggy or dialed an old rotary phone that hung on the wall. But there we were, two people who needed to go somewhere to buy clothes in person, walking around and looking at the mannequins in the windows and envisioning what the garments might look like on our older, normal-sized bodies.

We have a trip coming up soon, and I wanted to find a couple of nice tops to take along. When I looked in my closet, all I saw staring back at me was an army of weathered T-shirts and sweatshirts. Don’t get me wrong—I love my comfortable clothes and wear them almost every day of my life. But I need something for this trip that says “casual and nice,” not “Hey, I just got done cleaning out the garage.”

Shopping for clothes has become such a hassle for us. Our little town only has two places that sell clothing now, and the selection is very limited. When I do see something I like, guess what? They’ve sold out of my size. We’ve been forced to join many Americans and shop online, ordering things sight unseen and hoping for the best. I’d say ordering online works out about fifty percent of the time. The other fifty percent? Well, that’s when you get something that looks nothing like the picture, or fits like it was designed for someone with completely different body proportions.

A nd here’s another problem: At 60, I’m not young, and I’m not old. Let me rephrase that. I don’t wear cropped tops that show my belly button, but I’m also not ready for the clothing my grandmother wore in her nineties. I can’t stand for my clothes to be tight on my body, but I also don’t necessarily want to wear a circus tent. It seems like the fashion industry thinks you’re either twentyfive or seventy-five. Where are the stylish options for those of us who are, well, “in between?”

So there we were yesterday, driving forty-five minutes south to a mall that’s still hanging in there. Shopping centers have been abandoned everywhere. Malls sit vacant like ghost towns. But this one is still kicking, so off we went for an hour or two of shopping.

We walked into JCPenney, then Macy’s. I picked up a few things and nearly fell over when I saw the price tags. I’m sorry, but I just can’t spend $85 on a dressy T-shirt made in China from cotton. That’s just not happening.

As we marched from one store to another, feeling a bit defeated, I spotted H& M. I’d read about that chain somewhere—they call it “Fast Fashion,” known for being affordable yet trendy. We went in, and I immediately found a top I liked for $20. It’s mauve, which is a muted pink, and covers me well. Then I spotted a thin, summertime cardigan sweater in pale yellow that would look perfect over a yellow T-shirt. Another hit! H& M saved my day without breaking the bank.

But this saga isn’t over. All of my friends are having this same problem. It’s getting harder and harder to buy clothing. What will we do if all the brick-and-mortar stores fold? Will we be forced to order everything online? Some of us need to try things on to see if they fit. Sometimes I’m in a hurry and need something today or tomorrow, not in five to seven business days.

I’m grateful I found what I needed for our upcoming trip, but it doesn’t change the bigger picture. Shopping for clothes shouldn’t feel like a challenge. It shouldn’t feel like an impossible Easter egg hunt. It just shouldn’t be this hard, but these days, it is.