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target gone urban chic \10.01\

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Although I sometimes momentarily forget, there is one truth that I continually confirm: I was not born to shop.  At least not when it comes to fashion.  If someone gave me a shopping spree, I'd hope that it was for sporting goods, home furnishings or books.

Shopping trips for me pretty much always come down to "need" instead of "want".  And they're preceded by a heavy dose of online browsing, in an attempt to avoid stores.  Oh, and the online browsing is followed by a procrastination phase, which sometimes stretches for a week or more.

When I finally muster the mental fortitude to face retail, there are several factors that can deter me at a moment's notice: heavy crowds, long lines at registers or fitting rooms, disorganized racks.  I think that I also lack a fashion vision; I can't look at garments and have a-ha! fashion insights.  So, I end up looking for the same colors and cuts over and over again.  Don't fix what ain't broken...right?

There comes a point (and it doesn't take long to get there) when I stop pulling hangers to even look at the clothes.  I merely begin brushing my hand across the fabric as I pass by.  When I realize that I've glazed over and my hands are permanently in my pockets, it's a lost cause.

At this point, I feel sheer exhaustion from the mere effort and trying to make an effort.  And I've purchased nothing.  I'll probably just pull something out of my closet that I've owned since grad school...and sometimes high school.

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