Today I picked up The Mint at Union Station for a day of fun in the Los Angeles Fashion District. We were so psyched, having heard great things about the 90 blocks of flowers, fabrics, clothes, and knock-off designer handbags. I'd heard from trustworthy sources (you know who you are) that it would just be fabulous. And perhaps it is when the sun is out. But I'm not so sure if balmy weather could increase my appreciation of the merchandise in Santee Alley. By the time we circled back to the fabric stores, we were so worn down by all the pleather, skanky tank tops, and barrels of polycotton socks (THREE "PAIRS" FOR A DOLLAR!) that we actually passed on entire warehouses full of $1/yard fabrics. Total Fashion District purchases: one (1) umbrella, two (2) apple juices, one (1) silk-ish scarf.
Later, at The Grove, Lisa got super excited about Forever 21, a staple in Southern California malls. My perception of Forever 21 is that it exists for the sole purpose of turning teenage girls into hootchie-mamas. At such establishments, I take an Extra-Large, despite the fact that I am firmly Medium in the real world. Even the Extra-Large leisure sweatshirts do not have enough fabric for my line of work. Lisa, however, is not a pastor, but a swingin' single who regularly soaks up the Akron nightlife. She spent approximately 45 minutes sorting through racks of plunging necklines and skirts approximately the size of wristbands.
At the end of the day, Lisa has a flirty new top, and I have a scarf that will double as a headscarf the next time I do a dramatic interpretation of Mary Magdelene at the tomb.