A Mall Incident

Scene: My friend and I stride up to the entryway of Gilly Hicks in the local mall. A group of sales assistants stand uneasily before us, their expressions a curious mixture of amusement and panic.

A sales assistant clears her throat as we try to move forward and says, "You might not want to go in there."

We pause, confused, and wait for her to explain.

"We have a . . . situation," she continues. "There's a bat in the store, and we can't get rid of it."

Her coworkers giggle nervously. My friend shrugs and starts to enter the store, but my arm snakes out to grab her back as I remember the warnings my younger self was given while camping. "We'll come back later," I tell her, feeling like a bit of a wimp. We make a hasty retreat.

Hmm. I never liked the layout of Gilly Hicks, but it never occurred to me that the dark, claustrophobic atmosphere would be perfect for a little night critter. Or maybe the bat just had an urge to nest among the lingerie?

Oh, suburbia. We have such a love-hate relationship.

A Sisterly Incident

Scene: It's a lazy Sunday morning, and my sister Melanie has carefully lined her eyes in black.

"Eyeliner?" I say, and because my family doesn't wear a lot of makeup, I add, "Are you going somewhere?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Then why the eyeliner?" I prod.

She shrugs again. "Why not?" Then she grins, and says, "Because I can."

I smile back at her. "Good reason."

It's true - I really do think that is a good reason. In fact, I think I'll be so bold as to make another New Year's resolution. This year, I will doll myself up because I can. It doesn't matter if I have anywhere special to go, or anyone special to see. There doesn't need to be an occasion to look good. So thanks for the lesson, Mel.

A Mother/Daughter Incident

Scene: I race down the stairs in my flannel shirt and skinny jeans, feeling stylishly comfy. My mom stares.

"What?" I ask her.

"Nothing. It just . . . you're wearing exactly what I wore in high school."

"Oh."

I'm not sure how I feel about that. Must work harder on originality of outfits.

A Balenciaga Incident

Scene: I walk into my mother's room this afternoon to see her posing in front of the mirror in some clothing she just bought. "Show me the goods!" I tell her, and she turns around. Her outfit? A navy blue fitted blazer, capris gathered below the knees, and an ethnic scarf around her neck.

"Oooh," I say, "very Balenciaga!"

"Very what?"

"Balenciaga."

A pause. Then, "What's Balenciaga?"

She may be clueless about designers, but she's got the look down pat.

I can't decide whether this is laughable, unfair, or a sign that my fashion inclinations do, in fact, come from my family.

A Breakfast Incident

Scene: Early this morning, I walk into the kitchen and reach for the cereal. A box of Oatmeal Crisp - one of those healthy cereals I avoid like the plague - falls from the shelf. As I start to put it away, something on the back of the box catches my eye. For a breathless second, I think it says, "Great taste that's great for your hair!" and decide that yes, maybe I will have Oatmeal Crisp for breakfast after all.

What does it say about me that the instant I realized the box actually said, "Great taste that's great for your heart!" I put it back and grabbed the granola?

I strongly suspect I am more interested in boosting my appearance than my heart.

Damnit. Bad Kori.