The language of shopping

Shopping is a language and you either speak it or you don’t. I speak fluent shop. It’s one of my many talents.

Recently, Working Boy took the kids to an indoor trampoline park. I had planned to take them myself but of course Baby N managed to change his nap schedule as a one-off special and he ended up having just fallen asleep when we needed to leave for our booking. Luckily Working Boy had taken the day off and happily obliged in taking the kids. Not so luckily, 1 hour after their departure, he rang me to say he had been called in to an emergency, and he had to leave. I woke up baby N and jumped in the car. I have never been to the trampoline park before. I didn’t know exactly where it was. I called a friend, who gave me the street directions, which I mostly got, but was slightly unsure, especially the part about turning across traffic into a small side street off a busy road, before you actually got there.

As soon as I got there (once I had done an illegal U-turn after missing anonymous side street) it was obvious. Skyzone is across the road from Space Furniture and Domayne, just behind Nick Scali and Cosh Furniture.

If my friend had said that, I would have known exactly where to go. Because that is my language. Note to Skyzone – I would put my description under “address” on your website rather than 75 O’Riordon St.

When we bought our car three years ago, they wanted to know what colour we wanted. It’s often hard to tell from their colour chart how it’s going to look as a car, rather than a small square on a piece of glossy paper. We were told we could go and visit a different dealership to see our car in our colour. If our salesman could have just said “You’re considering the charcoal? Think Chanel Black Pearl” we could have saved the shlep time.

20140829-125853.jpg
That is the colour of my car

To speak shop, you have to think shop. And that I do. I have an imprint of Westfield Bondi Junction behind my retinas. And it must show, because random people constantly come up to me and ask me if I know where a certain shop is. It’s eerie. Luckily for them, I always do. I never lose my car in the car park.

And yet I have been known to lose all sorts of things in my house. Maybe if I set up little shop fronts throughout my home, I won’t lose things as often. Or aisles even. I know my Coles aisles by heart too. Who knows? Perhaps this is genetic and my kids will stop losing their things too.

“Mum have you seen my school bag??” “It’s in aisle 2, sweetheart. Across the road from “Mess is us” where all your stationary is, and a few odd sheets of homework, two random pieces of Lego and a key to unknown lock”.

I am not intrinsically a tidy person but I’m trying. I think this could be the key.

XOXO Shopping Girl

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