From different
directions they came. All were heading for the same destination, all yearning
for something new and the hope of finding the delightful, foremost in their
minds.
“I have to go through
with this” she whispered to herself, unwittingly gripping the delicate items in
her hand closer to her body, the white on her knuckles even whiter than her
already pale skin. “I need this and I owe it to myself,” she repeated time and
again as she was drawn closer and closer like a moth to a flame.
Briefly scanning the
environment, she could sense the same measure of anxiety from those who were
now closer and around her. “I cannot turn back now.” Her thoughts trembled as
she deliberately pushed forward.
Procedures at the
control point were rather swift and uncomplicated, no questions asked, no comments
made. She was simply allowed access with no option to opt out from what she
feared most – the change rooms!
“Why must it always be
like this?” she thought as she braced herself in the queue, waiting for a
cubicle to become vacant. “Always the darkest corner of the store, always the
loudest music, always the lack of air-conditioning...”
She dreaded the next
step which would be to enter a cubicle. “The curtains! Why slapdash curtains
and no proper doors? And those merciless lights! So bright, so exacting, so
unforgiving!” Like a champion chess player, she could already visualise a series
of moves as her mind raced through the ordeal that was awaiting her.
And then it was her
turn. She entered the booth where the already stale air was now accentuated by
the odour of the body that had been there before her. She closed the curtain behind
her, desperately trying to cover all the openings to prevent the peepers from
looking in. She knew that her efforts would be futile, though. Somebody would
anyway rip the curtain open while she was trying on the new garments.
She did not expect
anything different. Still the lack of space, only one small hook on the wall for
the selection of items in her hands and the absence of a bench to sit on, came
as a shock. “I need space for my bag, hooks for hanging things, a place to sit
on. I need space for myself!” Her thoughts echoed through her already
overloaded mind while her body shivered from the effect of claustrophobia which
the constricted environment enforced upon her.
And then, realising
that she could not postpone it any longer, she reluctantly turned around to face
her worst nightmare – the mirrors. Without even looking she knew that it would
make her look fat from more than one angle. “Why can’t they fit optically
correct mirrors!” it cringed within her. “Why torment me with a deformed,
disfigured and warped image of myself! Why do I walk in here, trying to feel like
a million dollars, only to walk out on a vengeful mission to starve myself for
the rest of my life? Why? Why?”
Later, in the cafeteria
over a strong cup of coffee, she unwittingly pictured the supreme change room
in her now tired mind. Spacious enough to change her clothing and not change
her mind. Good, accurate and if it exists, skinny mirrors. Decent, subdued
lighting and solid doors that lock. Soft music and fresh air. A floating table
for her handbag and at least four solid hooks (not behind the door!) where she
can hang the garments while changing. The option to ask someone’s opinion or
ask for another size. And, as a bonus, heated floors with gorgeous soft
carpeting, silk drapes and a beautiful velvet upholstered French styled chaise
lounge.
But as she snapped out
of her never to be fulfilled contemplation, she looked up and across the
clothing department’s floor to where the change rooms are. She saw fresh ones
coming from different directions, all heading for the same destination, all
yearning for something new and the hope of finding the delightful, foremost in
their minds. She noticed the stark faces and tense bodies, unwittingly gripping
the items in their hands closer to their physiques.
And as she stood up,
she reluctantly picked up the bag with the new garment that she had bought
shortly before, knowing that had she been in her dream change room, she would
not have made such a wrong and in the end, disappointing choice. And she briefly
hesitated at the returns counter before she walked out.
