When Fargo got a Forever 21 last year, it was kind of a big deal. I must admit, I was among the excited. After years of avoiding endless teeny-bopper chain stores at the mall, I finally had a clothing store option with a little personality.
I’m not a very good shopper as a general rule. It takes a lot of patience to find things that I like, so I have to be in the right mood. After finishing phase one of my filing job yesterday, I was feeling up enough to wade through racks of trendy, cheap clothes. So to Forever 21 I went.
Even though I would never wear 90% of the clothes, I enjoy shopping there. For one thing, I don’t feel too old or too young to be in the store. Their name might suggest that I’m already over the hill, but I think I still qualify as their target demography. And okay, you have to dodge the occasional 12-year-old fashionista. What business do they have looking so stylish? I looked like crap when I was 12. (My mom will disapprove of that comment, but I maintain its accuracy. Everyone looks awkward in middle school, or at least they should!) Still, the store is large enough to have variety without being totally overwhelming.
Of course, a trip to Forever 21 would not be complete with some laughs. The store seems to have two genres of clothing going on right now, which are about-to-go-boating and grandma-chic. I can get behind primary colors and floral prints, so neither of these is a problem per se. It’s just funny to look at a section of the store and see a cacophony of kitchen-wallpaper-esque fabric.
After narrowly avoiding some rompers, I made my way to the dressing room. There I tried on a dress that amounted to putting a sheath of spandex over my body. Appropriate if I was impersonating a Jersey Shore cast member perhaps, but not so much for a family wedding. Another dress turned out to be entirely see-through in its upper portion. I can’t say if that was intentional or not. Sadly I left the store empty-handed, but not without a few nuggets from my fellow shoppers.
A father and daughter exiting the store with their purchases. Father says, “Don’t tell your mother about this.”
A little boy’s voice from across the store whines, “I’m not having fun.” Hey kid, when that happens to me, I start mentally composing a blog post.