CityView Magazine

16 | April 2020 A S O M E D A Y Y O U ' L L T H A N K M E The Lost Art of Shopping BY MARY ZAHRAN A re you familiar with the art of shopping? I'm not talking about the kind of shopping most of us do these days when we find the perfect flat-screen television online for half price on Cyber Monday or when we outbid someone else on eBay and snag that designer cocktail dress we've been eyeing. I'm talking about the kind of shopping we all did before the Internet existed or before Amazon made it possible for us to purchase almost anything online. As a consumer who has done her share of endless ordering and reordering of life's necessities online, I sometimes strain to remember what it was like to purchase these items in an actual brick-and- mortar store. Don't get me wrong. I love the convenience of sitting at my computer and buying whatever I need, whenever I need it. I don't miss driving around a busy parking lot looking for the perfect spot to park my car, and I certainly don't miss standing in a long check-out line during the Christmas season (although I do miss reading all those tabloids while waiting in line). But that kind of shopping, for all its inconveniences, also has a lot of advantages. For one thing, the physical act of going out to a store offers certain social benefits that don't exist for the stay-at- home shopper. Some of my most vivid childhood memories of my grandmother include watching her dress to go "uptown" for the day. In addition to making sure her hair and makeup were perfect, she would always wear a hat and gloves for the occasion. If the weather was cold, she would wear a fox stole around her shoulders. I oen wonder what my grandmother would think if she saw how her granddaughter dresses—or doesn't dress— when she is shopping online. I am usually wearing pajamas or yoga pants and a T-shirt, clothing that definitely does not require a hat or gloves to complete the outfit. My guess is that she would prefer I get dressed in decent clothes and go "uptown" for the day. Another benefit of shopping in person is the possibility of running into people you know and chatting with them. Some of my most memorable conversations have taken place in the aisles of department stores while waiting for the salesperson to bring me a pair of shoes to try on. I once had an interesting encounter with my minister in the lingerie department. I was inspecting some rather racy undergarments when he walked up behind me and started talking to me. My face turned red from embarrassment as I hid the undies behind my back. We only spoke for about five minutes, but, to me, the conversation seemed to go on forever. e longer we talked, the tighter I clutched my merchandise. By the time he finally le, I had no feeling at all in my hands. I returned the lingerie to the rack and le the store, blushing every step of the way to my car. I was pretty sure every person in the mall knew what I had been shopping for and was laughing at my predicament. One of the most important lessons I learned from my shopping expeditions with my grandmother was that going "uptown" was really just a pretext for finding somewhere special to eat lunch. No matter how many things we looked at, tried on, or even purchased, our day was not complete until we slipped into a tearoom or a cafeteria to dine. Sometimes we would have egg salad or pimento cheese sandwiches; sometimes we had meatloaf or chicken and dumplings. But we always had a Jell-O salad with fruit and

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