bought the wrong things many times.
I couldn't even tell what I liked and didn't like. Ninety-nine percent
of the crap on the racks looked
That left one percent that was...okay.
In fact, it actually looked good. But it took forever to zero in on it.
I had to remember to write down my size and what I liked,
and then bring it with me when I went shopping, so I wouldn't become
nyway, I finally got used to it. I
mastered the art of shopping and became successful at looking
like I was at least familiar with
middle-class fashion mores. I even began not to mind it.
It was relaxing to fit in.
hen something funny began to happen.
My desire to succeed, my need to hide in middle-class trappings
(whatever you want to call it)
