Day 30

[Okay, here we go again with the story from Day 29. Of course, I'm still sleep deprived, so perhaps everyone should just keep any expectations in check...]

When she had saved enough money from her paycheck, Julie's mother took her clothes shopping. They went to Johnston's department store, a large family-owned business that carried everything from pots and pans to pajamas and formal dresses. At 11, Julie wasn't particularly into fashion, but she understood that clothes from Johnston's were not something one admitted to wearing. The girls in her class had started wearing shirts with sparkly slogans or shorts with words emblazoned on the behind from H&M or Abercrombie Kids. Julie was sure that there was nothing like that at Johnston's, but she planned to look.

Julie's mother kept the list of items that they needed. It was spring and Julie had outgrown all of her shorts and a number of t-shirts, many of which she had had since she was eight. They went directly to the girls' clothing section and began to look through the circular racks. As she flipped through the clothes, Julie remembered how she had loved hiding inside the racks when she was younger. She would sit in the middle of the rack, surrounded by clothes she considered to be beautiful, and pretend that she was inside her own walk-in closet. Her favorite items had been the dresses, which reached the floor and cocooned her inside billowy cloth beneath the racks. Communion dresses were the puffiest, but prom season brought out the most sparkly and glamorous dresses that were even more amazing than the dinner party dresses in the women's section that her mother liked to look through. Sometimes her mother would hold onto a dress for a little while, but eventually she would put it back, saying that it was too shiny or too long or too fancy for her needs.

They always had more success shopping for Julie, at least when she was younger and liked everything on the racks. The cat shirts. The unicorn shirts. The striped skirts with matching belts and socks of every color. They would wind their way through the racks, loading up the cart. After they had accumulated several items, they visited the changing rooms, where Julie would try on each outfit and twirl before the double mirrors that showed her how things looked from every angle. They would then return some items, but more were soon added and the process began all over again. After they had exhausted all options from the racks, including the ever-present "clearance" rack, Julie's mother would go through everything in the cart and add up the price tags to get the total. Sometimes she would reach the bottom of the cart and, looking satisfied, say, "Okay, let's go check out," and Julie would follow her to the registers knowing that they would bring home everything she had picked out.

Other times, her mother would slow down as she went through the pile and a frown would creep onto her face. She would shake her head, almost imperceptibly, as she continued to add items to the total. When she finished, she would stare at the clothes a while, and Julie knew she was doing calculations in her head. Soon, she would give Julie the decision. "We need to put back three shirts," she might say, or "Put back the $25 dollar dress or get rid of two pairs of pants."

The first few times that Julie's mother told her to put things back, Julie whined and complained and begged to be able to keep everything. Her mother explained quietly that it was too expensive and they would have to choose what to keep. But Julie did not want to put anything back, and continued to whine. The louder her tantrum got, the quieter her mother became, until eventually she took every single item and put it back without a word, then led a screaming Julie out the door.

That was when Julie was seven. Since then, she had learned to be more measured in her requests, or to avoid them altogether. She never knew the day's budget, so she waited until her mother announced the verdict for the cart, and made her decision as instructed. And as she got older and grew less fond of her choices at Johnston's, the pile in the cart grew smaller and smaller and there were fewer decisions to be made. A few times her mother even put some items for herself in the cart, though after she did the calculations, she suddenly decided that the fit wasn't quite as she wanted, and the items went back. But Julie kept nearly everything.

On this latest trip, Julie scanned each rack for anything that resembled the clothes the popular girls wore. She wanted leggings that she could wear with a cute, cropped t-shirt, or a dress that a magazine might describe as "fun and flirty." But all she saw were baggy shorts, t-shirts with unfamiliar logos, and dresses that screamed "embarrassing." Her mother, working her way through nearby racks, would call to her and hold up a potential item, but nothing appealed to Julie.

"I'm going to go check the women's section," her mother said after Julie gave the 10th "no" to an item she had suggested.

After her mother walked away, Julie approached the final rack. She noticed right away that something was different. There was a sign affixed to the cross-bar at the top, which read, "New from Name Brand Store. Slight irregularities means big savings for you!" Johnston's had brought in department store castoffs before, but only one or two items at a time. Julie had never seen an entire rack so tightly packed with potential.