Going shopping in London

Normally I'd write a post-vacation post about the goodies that I bought overseas. This is not it. This entry is instead dedicated to the force of nature that is Pooey's shopping technique. Some people have called me a formidable shopper. I am nothing - NOTHING! - compared to Pooey's ability.

I mean, that's not to say I didn't know she had extreme skills. She's always brought me back some pretty cool things on which people compliment. But over two days, I saw firsthand what Pooey can do with a few hours to kill and a wad of cash in her hand. "Meh, how hard can it be?" I hear you doubters ask. Well for one, shopping in Melbs is completely different to London. There's a lot more choice and a lot more people to compete with, and reduced prices are a lot cheaper. Among the crazed Asian crowd at the Hackney Burbs outlet, while I became as wild-eyed as the other tourists at the sales to be ha, Pooey calmly asked if I really wanted the Burberry Speedy while also methodically going through all the scarves to find the exact one Ma asked for.

This rational and methodical aspect of Pooey's shopping was firmly reiterated when we joined the moshpit that is Primmy Oxford St. Here, Pooey revealed the true genius behind her technique. It was about 11am, well before the shop descends into a mob (or as the French call it, une foule), but it was already quite packed with women tearing clothes off hangers, not bothering to queue for changing rooms, instead trying on the garments in front of store mirrors before either throwing them in the baskets or disdainfully on the floor whereby blank eyed workers would sweep the hangers and clothes into semi-orderly piles.

As we had entered one of the doors on the far side of the floor, Pooey worked her way through the racks in a specific pattern so as to maximise her clothes viewing in minimal time. While I was quickly worn down by the sheer volume of clothes, people and their combined frenetic appearance, Pooey calmly explained that one needed to keep a cool head and not allow others to get in the way of her ability to inspect the racks - after all, how else did I think she found all the nice things she'd found me? One needs time to sort the wheat from the chaff, or as she called it, "Find the gems." This mantra was repeatedly chanted at me whenever she saw I was weakening.

I'll confess. At the time, I could not believe she put up with such conditions on a regular basis, much less that she subjected me to it. But a few days later as I wore one of the last items she had chosen and declared that I would look 'supercute' in (a red hooded corduroy jacket), I realised she was indeed correct. I looked mighty cute in it, and given that I lacked her patience and eagle eye, I would have lost the chance to purchase it given that Primmy have a stock change turnover of around a week (according to Pooey).

And so, I bow down to her superior abilities and have attempted to immortalise them in my words. I'm not sure my words have even done her justice, but I have tried to the best of my feeble skills.