Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one to stereotype. I know all people are individuals, with their own rainbow of idiosyncratic traits and opinions and personalities. But when you walked in, I couldn't help it. I saw the sweat on your brow, the expression on your face, the wide-eyed panic of a savage suddenly thrown into the middle of Times Square during rush hour, the way your eyes darted wildly around the unfamiliar environment, trying to locate the nearest exit. And I immediately approached you – swiftly in case, in your panic, you damaged either yourself or your surroundings; but with a soothing smile to show I meant you no harm. Keeping eye contact to avoid your bolting in alarm, I asked you in the friendly, clear tones of one speaking to a lost child with which they shared no common language:
Me: “Can I help you with anything?”
You (after some nervous fidgeting): “I, erm, I don't know … I mean, yes, I, um, I need … clothes. For, you know. Children.”
Yes, Confused Male, there may well come a time in a man's life when, through circumstances beyond his control, he finds fate has set his path through that domain of the woman – the children's clothes' department. Like I said: I don't like to stereotype. There are members of your sex who can clothe their offspring with a security, style and speed many women can only dream of. Not all males see shopping for children's clothes as a daunting task. However, it took only a moment's observation to see your perspiring brow, the way your pupils dilated in primal fear at the vast array of different sizes, styles and colours, the way you desperately clutched in your fist the crumpled note containing the where, the what, and the how of your planned shopping expedition. And instantly, I slipped into “working with a child”-mode.
Me (still wearing my soothing smile): Okay, great! Now, is it a boy or a girl? How old are they? Do you know what size they take?”
Perhaps it was my mistake – throwing you, in one unsegregated and unprepared sentence, three questions about your young clothing candidate. Perhaps it was the stress of the whole shopping situation. Or perhaps you were simply confused by the lurid brightness and overwhelming frilliness of your unfamiliar surroundings. Whatever the reason, the details I gently pressed you for were simply not forthcoming.
You (following some more fidgeting): “I, uhhh … I'm not sure how old he is. Um, I mean, he's at school.”
This, Confused Male, is not really helpful. After playing Twenty Questions for a while, we eventually establish that the child in question is male, and probably around eight years old. I soon leave establishing his exact size as an unattainable dream, as your fidgeting begins to increase, the colour draining from your face, if I move in the direction of such advanced geometrical musings as “is he tall or short for his age?”. You gratefully clutch to your chest the first garments I dangle in front of you that might fit an eight year old boy, proclaiming them, without more than glancing at them, “fine, thank you very much”. I carefully explain to you the rules for returning and changing purchases, as the size is as likely as not way off. You swallow grimly when you realise that Shopping For Kids: The Apocalypse might possibly have an even nastier sequel (Shopping For Kids II: The Return), and depart as quickly as you can, saying you're sure this'll be fine.
Confused Male. I'm your friend. Friends are there for you when you need them. However, even friends like me can't help you if you can't first help yourself a little. It's a daunting task, so come prepared. Children come in different ages and sizes, so do some research – find out what size the child in question needs, how old they are, maybe even what colours they like. You're probably an intelligent man, Confused Male – make a little effort, and you can avoid giving the impression of having a room-temperature IQ while shopping for clothes. As G.I. Joe put it, Knowing Is Half The Battle – together, we can make the clothes shop a friendly, happy place, where no one needs to feel afraid.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
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