Shopping with Lucia, aka Hell on Earth

    To say I love shopping is an understatement. I can spend hours in a store, browsing through racks and trying on clothes, shoes, hats. If I’m on a serious mission, I’ll book a personal shopper to pre-select items for me, but for the most part I like to look myself. Lucia hates it. She knows what she wants, goes to a rack like she had a laser beam on it, grabs the item and is ready to go. Needless to say, we don’t go together very often, because an all-out brawl is simmering under the surface after the first hour, where she starts snarling, eventually graduating to growling.

The only way to soothe the savage beast is if we are somewhere that will get her a drink while I try on clothes. A couple of cocktails will put her in her happy place, and I can take my time. One time she even asked a store associate go and get her a turkey club and a beer, but with the amount of money I was spending, they were happy to do it.

Then one day the storm clouds parted and miracle of miracles, she actually had fun. Because that was the day Lucia (in an attempt at payback) decided she wanted to try on wedding gowns. Yes, you heard correctly – wedding gowns. At first it was funny, because it was so out of character. I figured after the first one or two, she’d tire of it, and we’d be on our way. Oh no. It turned out to be a three-hour wedding gown extravaganza, with one more elaborate than the next, until she finally had a gown on that was so big, she would have to get married in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in order to get that dress down an aisle. Vera Wang, Pnina Tornai, Amsale, Lazaro were all trotted out. She posed, she cooed, she made me take innumerable photos, all lace and sparkles. Twelve-foot long trains with matching veils, she was playing it to the hilt. And then she hit the wall.

She ripped off the gown, leaving it in a heap, threw her clothes on and said she was ready to go. Our sales lady was crushed, but I slipped her a generous “something” for her troubles. The good news? I found a beautiful pair of peau de soie kitten heel pumps with antique lace bows. So not a total loss!

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About D'arcy

D'arcy grew up on an estate in upstate New York, surrounded by staff, with mostly absentee parents. Left to her own devices, she shunned school, read voraciously, and collected animals, first-edition volumes of her favorite books, and occasionally men. D'arcy recently moved out of her apartment on the UES of NYC with her cavachon pup, Aramis, and is currently living at her late parents estate while deciding on where to put down roots. The best way to get on her good side is to have a sense of humor, not take yourself too seriously, and be kind in general. Irritate her, and you'll be greeted with a laser look and a tongue lashing for the ages, and not the good kind.

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