Moss, is humor writer from Tennessee. She writes a
weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny
things that happen to everyone.
She has written for the Daily News of Kingsport, Griffin Journal,
Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.
She is a
former board member and past Editor of the Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
oldest and largest professional organization
for columnists. She is the Web Editor of
Humorists.com and a founder of the Southern Humorists writers'
organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com.
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Online Since 1999
A week or two ago, I was going out of town on a trip.
Like most women, I had nothing to wear, or at least nothing that
seemed good enough to wear. All my clothes were a bit on the shabby
side with those little pills that appear on garments or hemlines that
fashion left has behind.
This meant one thing -- time to go shopping.
I used to love shopping for clothes. I could spend hours at the mall
just looking and trying things on. However, the older I get -- and the
fatter -- the less appealing shopping for clothes has become. I hate
trying things on only to find that they are too small, make me look
even fatter, or are just not my style.
Nevertheless, I dragged myself to the mall determined that I would
find some new clothes to wear even if it killed me. After all, I
didn't want to go out of town looking like last year's closet.
At the department store, I selected what I thought was a nice outfit,
held it up in front of me and looked in the mirror. Another shopper
was watching. "No, that doesn't look good," she said.
"You need more color."
I was a bit surprised, but she was right. "Here try this
one," she suggested, handing me a turquoise top and skirt. I had
to admit that it did do more for me than what I had picked.
She selected another skirt. "I know where I can get a top to go
with this," she said, disappearing across the store. I continued
to shop thinking she was gone.
"No brown," she said, appearing behind me, "Something
brighter." I put back the dress I was looking at.
"I never match print tops and bottoms; it makes you look 70 years
old," she said. I put back the print skirt and top, feeling very
The next thing I knew, she was following me around picking out other
outfits for me to try on. What's with this lady? Is she a sales clerk?
No, she was a customer too.
"I love to shop!" she told me. Apparently, her fashion sense
extended to other shoppers as well. "What occasion are you
shopping for?" she asked. I told her what I had in mind. Soon I
had an armload of clothes to try on.
I escaped to the dressing room and tried everything on. Almost
everything worked. When I came out, she asked how they looked, and I
admitted that I was buying several of the outfits.
"You should be a personal shopper," I said.
I hid behind the dress racks so I could pick out my own clothes. But
everything I picked was navy. In fact, nearly everything in my closet
is navy. I had noticed that before I came shopping.
Guess I am in a fashion rut and needed someone to help me out. I was
going to give the lady my business card in case she showed up in one
of my columns, but when I came out of the dressing room for the last
time, she was gone.
I don't know what ever happened to her. Maybe she was a guardian
fashion angel, or something. Whatever it was, it worked out okay.
While I was gone out of town, I did some shopping on my own. There was
a Goodwill store right next to the hotel. They had some great
bargains. Now that I am in the mood, I am finding all kinds of things.
There is a yard sell in my neighborhood next weekend, and I might even
go shopping again. I love bargains! Could that be part of my problem?
If my guardian fashion angel is watching, I hope I don't pick out
anything that will embarrass her.
Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss
Nashville, TN 37219
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