An Oasis in theSun

I feel like I haven't shopped in years. Seven, to be exact. Those who know me will just roll their eyes. That's like stating the impossible. But oh. If they only knew.

It might be my best kept secret. And style segments, blog entries and numerous consultations aside, it couldn't be more true.

Now, don't get me wrong. I would hate to mislead. I've certainly done my fair share of shopping over these last seven years. Yet diapers, bouncy chairs, new sneakers, back to school clothes and underwear for my husband just doesn't cut it. Not in my book. And not in the book of any well-seasoned, savvy, materialistic gal who appreciates a good lipstick and knows her Milly from her Missoni and values a good Target knock-off.

If there is one thing I've learned over the last seven years, it's how to be an effective editor and become significantly more discerning when spending a hard-earned dollar. That's why when a pal mentioned Nordstrom Rack was coming to town, I felt a little tinge of excitement. Of hope. Of the feeling that maybe, just maybe, my time had come again.

So when May 15th came around and the other fabulous moms at the bus stop mentioned a caravan departing the moment the school bus pulled away, I was on board. In line. Ready to go. With my only rational ~ an impending wedding and no suitable dress ~ tucked squarely in my back pocket, I decided today was my day to go shopping.

As I pulled into the parking lot that used to be barren back in the days of Old Navy, I couldn't help but crack a smile. At the wee small hour of 9 a.m., there were cars as far as the eye could see, droves of ladies coming and going, and the thumping of DJ music emanating across the lot sealed the deal. For a fleeting moment, I resisted. I'm a pro after all. I know all the tricks. But then I relented. I gave in. To the fun. To the energy. To the possibilities.

I took a deep breath and threw my shoulders back. Nordstrom Rack, take me away.

A nautical look, weathered denim by Tory Burch. If only I were a size 2.

When a Nordstrom gal strolled by with a basket full of bottled water and mints and asked how my shopping was going, and by the way, would I like a refreshment? Well...I swooned. It was almost too much to bear.

The line was long but the anticipation was palpable. There were practically no fitting room limits, after all. Rumor had it you could bring 15 items in at a time. Did I mention they have a tailor on site? Ladies, they have all the bases covered...

As seen in my fitting room. This is my vernacular. They are speaking my language. It must be kismet.

I found the clearance racks to be the holders of great bounty and worthy of a little extra time and attention.

My parting parcel, in a recycled shopping bag. Mission accomplished. Feeling, and perhaps even looking, simply divine.