Shopping

There are several clues that I’m a man in disguise and shopping is the biggest of those.

I absolutely hate it.

From growing up poor in a house where every penny was spent on doing up the latest old wreck my mother had bought in her endless search for upward mobility, via property, to being a poor teenager (at least until I could get a part time job myself), I’d never been able to shop carefree.

It was never a pleasure, always a guilt trip.

As a more affluent adult, I’m simply not a qualified shopper, not like my daughter and her friends, for whom shopping is a pleasure and a sport.

Primark and TK Maxx are two of the rings of Hades as far as I’m concerned!

The internet simultaneously saved me and made things worse.

If it’s available on Amazon I’m fine, especially with household items, books or electrical equipment and if there’s international delivery I’m in Prime Heaven.

Fashion shopping is still a challenge, being of abundant girth, things really need to be tried on.

I save clothes shopping for the quarterly trips home then binge on Marks & Spencers linen and loose knits.

Once browsed online, the retargeting pixels spring into action.

I’m currently being pursued around the internet by a pair of pastel Ugg boots and an underwire free bra, along with various covered hot water bottles and a bulb for my bathroom cabinet.

You would think the technology could tell that I’ve already bought one of those items and will never buy one other.