Saturday, May 8

Shopping revelations

Jen and I took off for a shopping trip to Copley/Prudential this afternoon. (I've lived here how long? Because I still call that entire area "Copley." Starting at Mass Ave. and going down practically to the Common -- it's all Copley to me.) We both were determined to inject a little color into our wardrobes, and I'd heard there was a new Krispy Kreme there.

We hit the Gap first, where I convinced Jen to buy the cutest striped tank top. I don't know what it is about sunshine, but spring gives me a major jones for stripes. While trying things on, Jen and I share a dressing room. Sure, the 17-year-old working the Gap line raised a brow, but it saves time this way. While in the dressing room, a tiny cubicle with a built-in bench along one wall, I discovered that I was indeed short enough to fit comfortably on the bench -- lengthwise. Inappropriate.

Next, we stopped at J. Jill to check out a skirt that we've both had our eye on since we saw it in the catalog weeks ago. It, too, was striped. It was also very popular, so the nice sales clerk had to dig out back to get us the appropriate sizes. We both grabbed the same coordinating boatneck tank in a sweet shade of tangerine. And since the J. Jill dressing rooms are lovely and spacious (I highly recommend), we shared again. We both don our skirts and tangerine tops, turn, look in the mirror, and simultaneously realize that we both look horrible in this outfit. Tangerine is not my color. I repeat: Tangerine is not my color. Jen could do the orange better than I, but I could pull off the skirt more easily. Put us together and you've got an outfit.

Final destination: Krispy Kreme. For some reason, this place o' heavenly doughnuts and even more heavenly smells is directly across from Sephora, home to 2,000 perfumes intermingling with weird make-up smell -- all in all, a place I usually avoid. I braved Sephora and the extensive line to get myself an original glazed doughnut as a reward for all the hideous clothes shopping. And, oh sweet mother of god, it was worth it. There is nothing better than one of those confections. Nothing. Well, maybe the Sox winning the penant. Maybe.

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