Why do women insist on taking men shopping with them? Any woman in her right mind surely knows that shopping and men just don't mix unless it's for cars, music or techy things.
Perhaps these women have this rose-tinted image of them and their beloved strolling through town, him nodding in appreciation as she tries on shoes, boots and clothes, giving helpful, constructive comments and not minding how long she takes. Pah, dream on. The reality will be deep sighs, fidgeting, constant watch checking, absent minded 'what? oh yeah, you look great' and meaningful, longing glances at music shops.
I'm sure there are exceptions and some men just love to go shopping with their girl but I think you'd be hard pressed to find them. I think I was in my late teens when I worked out that browsing is fine with men but if you want to do some serious shopping, go with a girlfriend. The only time men honestly like shopping is when it's for them. My 16-year-old starts the fidgeting and muttering under his breath after about three minutes when I'm in a shop of my choice yet when we're there for him, it's a different matter. If he had his way buying jeans would take several hours.
And never try to buy cushions when there's a man around. Men just don't get cushions. Do you know a single man who gets up from the sofa and plumps up the cushions? No, exactly.
The average male just wants to get the hell out so he can listen to the sport or plug in his iPod so you're never going to get a true answer to the perennial but vital 'does my bum look big in this'? A girlfriend won't mind if you're in the fitting room for an hour, she'll assess everything you try on and will be brutally honest, sparing you the indignity of buying something that really does make you look like a hippo. A man is never going to tell you the truth, he's worried what will happen to his bedroom privileges.
Then there's the fact that a seemingly substantial number of men have a thing for high heels, the higher the better, and anything as long as it's low at the front, tight and short. I'm well aware I'm veering into the dangerous waters of stereotyping but all I can say in my defence is, I've not yet enountered a man who would choose a flowing, maxi dress over a body-con number or who thinks flat, riding boots are sexy.
Yesterday I was buying boots (having sent the sons off to Waterstones and warned them not to come back for at least 30 minutes) and spotted a Saturday shopping couple. She was in her element, boot boxes were stacked up around her, she spent ages twirling in front of the mirror in each pair, checking them from every angle. He was in hell. His body language was screaming 'for god's sake, how much longer? Just buy a bloody pair, any pair!'
She tried to engage him in a debate about the advantages of the mock croc flats over the tan wedges but by then it was clear to everyone in the shop, except her apparently, that he was fast losing the will to live. At one stage I thought he'd actually fallen asleep but he just seemed to have slumped into a boot induced trance. Now, if she'd had any sense she'd have left him at home in the first place, but failing that, put him out of his misery and told him to take himself off to the nearest music store or sports shop. The mammoth boot session was already well underway when I arrived in the shop and they were still at it when I left 35 minutes later. Poor guy.
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