fran46
09-22-2006, 11:46 AM
There's so much talk about shopping, and building up the courage to actually do it, that I decided to post something I wrote several years ago for another site. Hope it's helpful. Here goes...
You're frustrated with buying women's clothes by mail order, only to be surprised at the drape of the fabric or that the color isn't precisely the shade pictured in the catalog. You're weary of purchasing an item in a store, under the pretense that it's for your wife or girlfriend, then discovering later that you needed a size 14, not a 12.
You want to shop like a woman. You want to experience the thrill of the hunt for the perfect cap-sleeve blouse, the camaraderie you've seen between female sales clerks and their customers, even the satisfying exhaustion of a day in which you tried on more outfits than you can count.
Also, you want your clothes to fit.
I've done that kind of shopping, and you can, too.
In patronizing several dozen women's stores in recent years, I've been uniformly treated with respect and dignity. I've overcome my fear that sirens would sound if I asked to try on a bra in Victoria's Secret, heard excellent advice by saleswomen on everything from hem lengths to tieing scarves, and, best of all, made good decisions about spending my money and building my wardrbobe.
For what it's worth, here's what I've learned:
No. 1. Do not call in advance. This one is counterintuitive. Phoning the store to ask if people there are comfortable with a man shopping for women's clothes seems like the sensitive and considerate way to pave the road for a successful outing. Unfortunately, the first image to flash into the mind of the clerk or assistant manager who answers your call is that of an extravagant drag queen in purple hot pants and an orange boa sashaying flamboyantly into her shop. My recommendation: Just go to the store.
No. 2. Avoid department stores. I've found that the women's wear staffs there are generally stodgier and definitely chillier to male customers than sales associates in such specialty shops as Chico's, Express and Lerner New York. A department-store saleswoman is less likely to engage with you on a human level, and when you ask to try something on the chances are that she will condescendingly point you toward the fitting rooms in the men's department, two floors up.
No. 3. Forget trying to pass, unless you're so terrific that your mother wouldn't recognize you in a jumper. The trick to a great shopping experience is carrying yourself with both confidence and discretion. You want to be just another customer. You want to blend in. Women do not dress to the nines to shop, anyway. They spend too much time on their feet and take off their clothes too often to make heels and back-zippered dresses practical. If, like me, you're not passable, skip the wig and mascara, and opt for the androgynous look, in, say, nicely cut women's slacks, a sweater twinset, and flats.
No. 4. Take your time. Women shop carefully, choosily. Yes, you're nervous, but resist the urge to grab the first acceptable black skirt, flip out your Mastercard and beat a retreat. Your goal here is to establish with the staff that you are a serious and discriminating shopper and that you're comfortable with what you're doing and what you are. That takes at least 10 minutes of perusing all the various merchandise. This bears repeating: Blend in.
No. 5. Remember that the odds are on your side. Of the last 26 occasions when I've shopped for women's clothing and asked to try something on before buying it, I've been turned down just once. Predictably enough, that was in a department store.
No. 6. Connect with a saleswoman. When one approaches you, and one will because most earn commissions on their sales, smile, give her your name, and make a point to remember hers. Tell her what you're looking for. Seek her counsel. Establish a bond. Use her name. Talk about the clothes. If you've already identified several things you want to consider purchasing, ask if she will start a fitting room for you. In shoptalk, that means she will begin to hang those items on the door of a changing room.
No. 7. Don't be spooked by the idea of trying on a nightgown you might, or might not, purchase. Half the adults in the United States sample women's clothes by putting them on in stores every year, and the fitting rooms in most afford all the privacy you'll want. Virtually every one that I've seen has hooks for your clothes and purse, as well as a full-length mirror and a bench or chair. Louvered doors seem standard, too. I don't know why. At some point, the saleswoman will stop by and inquire, through those louvers, "How are you doing?" That's her way of asking if you need a larger or smaller size, perhaps a different color. You might even dare to step out for a moment to get her opinion on the rust-toned leggings.
No. 8. Buy something. This is an absolute must. After taking advantage of the saleswoman's time and generosity, and establishing a connection with her, you must make a purchase. If you don't, she and her colleagues are apt to conclude you were only trying on clothes for a cheap thrill, and that will have a negative impact on their reaction to the next crossdresser who comes through their door. Any purchase will suffice, even if it's just a couple of $10 tailored tee shirts. Ideally, of course, you found a little black dress that is just the thing.
No. 9. Savor the moment. You've jumped a big hurdle, and now you understand that you can do it again. Just last weekend, I made a wonderful 90-minute visit to a Talbots store, where a friendly 30ish saleswoman named Amy was tactfully enthusiastic about helping me. I ended up buying an ankle-length knit dress, two pairs of shorts, a blue skort, a belt and three tops. Oh, and a leather handbag. As I left the store, I knew that I my purchases had been wise selections and that they would fit. I stepped out into the afternoon sunshine, with my bulging Talbots bag in my hand, and I felt womanly.
Fran
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You're frustrated with buying women's clothes by mail order, only to be surprised at the drape of the fabric or that the color isn't precisely the shade pictured in the catalog. You're weary of purchasing an item in a store, under the pretense that it's for your wife or girlfriend, then discovering later that you needed a size 14, not a 12.
You want to shop like a woman. You want to experience the thrill of the hunt for the perfect cap-sleeve blouse, the camaraderie you've seen between female sales clerks and their customers, even the satisfying exhaustion of a day in which you tried on more outfits than you can count.
Also, you want your clothes to fit.
I've done that kind of shopping, and you can, too.
In patronizing several dozen women's stores in recent years, I've been uniformly treated with respect and dignity. I've overcome my fear that sirens would sound if I asked to try on a bra in Victoria's Secret, heard excellent advice by saleswomen on everything from hem lengths to tieing scarves, and, best of all, made good decisions about spending my money and building my wardrbobe.
For what it's worth, here's what I've learned:
No. 1. Do not call in advance. This one is counterintuitive. Phoning the store to ask if people there are comfortable with a man shopping for women's clothes seems like the sensitive and considerate way to pave the road for a successful outing. Unfortunately, the first image to flash into the mind of the clerk or assistant manager who answers your call is that of an extravagant drag queen in purple hot pants and an orange boa sashaying flamboyantly into her shop. My recommendation: Just go to the store.
No. 2. Avoid department stores. I've found that the women's wear staffs there are generally stodgier and definitely chillier to male customers than sales associates in such specialty shops as Chico's, Express and Lerner New York. A department-store saleswoman is less likely to engage with you on a human level, and when you ask to try something on the chances are that she will condescendingly point you toward the fitting rooms in the men's department, two floors up.
No. 3. Forget trying to pass, unless you're so terrific that your mother wouldn't recognize you in a jumper. The trick to a great shopping experience is carrying yourself with both confidence and discretion. You want to be just another customer. You want to blend in. Women do not dress to the nines to shop, anyway. They spend too much time on their feet and take off their clothes too often to make heels and back-zippered dresses practical. If, like me, you're not passable, skip the wig and mascara, and opt for the androgynous look, in, say, nicely cut women's slacks, a sweater twinset, and flats.
No. 4. Take your time. Women shop carefully, choosily. Yes, you're nervous, but resist the urge to grab the first acceptable black skirt, flip out your Mastercard and beat a retreat. Your goal here is to establish with the staff that you are a serious and discriminating shopper and that you're comfortable with what you're doing and what you are. That takes at least 10 minutes of perusing all the various merchandise. This bears repeating: Blend in.
No. 5. Remember that the odds are on your side. Of the last 26 occasions when I've shopped for women's clothing and asked to try something on before buying it, I've been turned down just once. Predictably enough, that was in a department store.
No. 6. Connect with a saleswoman. When one approaches you, and one will because most earn commissions on their sales, smile, give her your name, and make a point to remember hers. Tell her what you're looking for. Seek her counsel. Establish a bond. Use her name. Talk about the clothes. If you've already identified several things you want to consider purchasing, ask if she will start a fitting room for you. In shoptalk, that means she will begin to hang those items on the door of a changing room.
No. 7. Don't be spooked by the idea of trying on a nightgown you might, or might not, purchase. Half the adults in the United States sample women's clothes by putting them on in stores every year, and the fitting rooms in most afford all the privacy you'll want. Virtually every one that I've seen has hooks for your clothes and purse, as well as a full-length mirror and a bench or chair. Louvered doors seem standard, too. I don't know why. At some point, the saleswoman will stop by and inquire, through those louvers, "How are you doing?" That's her way of asking if you need a larger or smaller size, perhaps a different color. You might even dare to step out for a moment to get her opinion on the rust-toned leggings.
No. 8. Buy something. This is an absolute must. After taking advantage of the saleswoman's time and generosity, and establishing a connection with her, you must make a purchase. If you don't, she and her colleagues are apt to conclude you were only trying on clothes for a cheap thrill, and that will have a negative impact on their reaction to the next crossdresser who comes through their door. Any purchase will suffice, even if it's just a couple of $10 tailored tee shirts. Ideally, of course, you found a little black dress that is just the thing.
No. 9. Savor the moment. You've jumped a big hurdle, and now you understand that you can do it again. Just last weekend, I made a wonderful 90-minute visit to a Talbots store, where a friendly 30ish saleswoman named Amy was tactfully enthusiastic about helping me. I ended up buying an ankle-length knit dress, two pairs of shorts, a blue skort, a belt and three tops. Oh, and a leather handbag. As I left the store, I knew that I my purchases had been wise selections and that they would fit. I stepped out into the afternoon sunshine, with my bulging Talbots bag in my hand, and I felt womanly.
Fran
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------