Now, how did that happen? Usually, I frequent thrift shops, where I am left alone. Every now and then, I do go to a retail establishment and watch the salesperson's eyes flicker to my shoes and my bag--usually I am found wanting. That's OK, since I like to scrounge around and hate retail pressure.
But a few weeks ago, I got a taste of being treated like royalty in the retail arena: at the Encore Shop in New Orleans, a half thrift/half consignment shop that benefits the New Orleans Symphony. I had been perhaps twice in the last 20 years, leaving empty-handed both times.
But for some reason, I felt the urge to check it out. In I walked, my usual scruffy self. Mr. FS said I could have 10 minutes.
I saw a tall blond right out of Town and Country magazine. She was trying on clothes, but rushed to meet me, asked my name, and followed me around. I told her what was on my wish list, but--alas--nothing on my wish list was my size. She made me promise to come back on one of the days she worked, so she could help me. Imagine: I was being helped by a New Orleans society lady! What a thrill.
I even found her picture in the paper, so you can see what I mean.
I didn't see any Coach shoes for $4 (indeed, this place was rather expensive). I did buy a pair of shoes, which looked brand new. They were $22.00, half of which goes to the orchestra.