The Island of Forever 21

I do not simply go into Forever 21 casually.  If I’m at the mall with my friends and pass its gleaming displays, but we’re only hanging out for an hour, I keep walking.  Forever 21 is the island of lotus-eaters: you wander in innocently and exit after days.  When I reach out for that first floral sundress, I am gone.  I don’t know who I fucking am anymore.  Oh yes, nothing matters except for the long, intense hunt for cute clothes.  The cool music, dirt-cheap sales, and infinite racks?  All part of the vortex that is Forever 21.20160815_001637872_iOS

So basically, I put off visiting my favorite store all summer  until a couple weeks ago, when I finally had enough motivation and spare time to properly dig in.  This was my single shopping spree of the season, and it’s safe to say that I splurged.

My beautiful friend Kay and I enter the store.  It’s like I’m squabbling around for ingredients of some massive potpourri as we begin the first sweep.  I drape each item over my forearm and scurry around manically, but methodically, through about 75% of the store.  As the first sweep begins to end, Kay clutches two dresses.  I’m drowning in a mountain of shirts and  complaining that malls should have shopping carts.

“How many items?” the staff member asks.

“Like, six?” I say.  She counts eight and Kay sniggers.

“Are you really buying that many?” Kay asks me after we try on our selections.

“Of course not,” I said, now holding only three tops.  “I’m just really bad at choosing clothes.  My success rate is less than 50%, so I need a larger sample.”The second sweep is less frantic.  Seeing your reflection wrapped in awkwardly-fitting clothes really dampens a shopping appetite.  I finish the last quarter of the store, focusing in on the Sales section, and glance over everything one last time.  Thinking ahead to fall and winter, I buy high-waisted pants and a long-sleeve shirt.

my style: pretty patterns and high-waisted comfy stuff

God help me.  And give me a Forever 21 gift card.  



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