Retail Therapy

Who knew a trip to the mall could be so therapeutic?


Actually, I did know that as a big fan of retail therapy. But I meant for an 8 year old boy.


We went from Logan’s “…worst day of my life” to “This is the best day of my life!” all in the span of a week. And all it took was a trip to the mall.


I, myself, was in absolute heaven after my own week of mommy heartbreak, since I purposely refrain from going to the mall because it just reminds me of all the oh-so-cute things I just have to have but don’t really need.


But what really left me floating in neon pink, green and orange is: The 80’s are back!


It was like someone put me in a time machine and I stepped out into 1985 Sunvalley Mall ready to shop for a pair of gray Dittos with pink pin stripes, matching LA Gear two-tone fold-down lace ups, a sleeveless hot pink button-down collared shirt with a fat silver studded belt cinched over it, matching dangly earrings with hearts on the ends, an arm full of jelly bracelets and cheap, bright, fat bead bracelets.


I knew I should’ve hung onto all that and my WHAM! posters! Something as fabulous as the 80’s was sure to come back again. Hmmm, it just might be time to pull out my hot pink prom dress with matching heels and banana clip from the attic.


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I arranged the last two weeks of summer camp so each of my kids would get some one-on-one time with mom. My son decided one of things he wanted to do together was get some more jelly bracelets a la 1980’s. And being the excellent shopper I am, I knew just the place to get him an armful collection – Claire’s accessory store.


So off to the mall we went – a mother/son shopping day.


Being a miniature replica of his father, I thought Logan would shop just like him. Head straight in for the “kill” and immediately retreat, satisfied the job was completed with no wasted time.


Now, the only time my kids go to the mall is for Christmas to tell Santa what they’d like or for my daughter, a Libby Lu birthday party. If there’s going to be a rare trip to the mall for the pure sport of shopping, this woman goes solo. Bringing the kids would be like an alcoholic showing up with a flask at an AA meeting. You’re not going to get to indulge your vice and you should’ve known better than to try.


Any how, on the way to Claire’s we passed a surf wear shop. Logan was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He browsed the trendy backpacks, checked out the hip neon colored skull shirts, and gawked at the storewide display of all things way cool. Like his mother before him, he never realized there were so many things he didn’t know he had to have till he arrived at the mall.


Store after store, his excitement grew — a shoe store with more varieties of Chuck’s than he’d ever seen to his delight and amazement. A hat shop that blew his mind with its seemingly infinite selection. When I told him there were more surf and skate shops we could check out, he asked incredulously, “How many stores are there in this place?”


It was a great day of shopping. As Logan and I left the mall, three dozen multi-colored jelly bracelets on his arms, a “tight” hot pink skull shirt in his possession, and three stores he planned to visit again for back-to-school shopping, he declared, “This is the best day of my life!”


Only a week after losing his Hammy the hamster and declaring it the worst day of his life, it was music to this mother’s ears. Plus, I had just gained an unexpected partner for my retail therapy sessions.

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