Chapter 1: The Reluctance to Shop

In my quest to strengthen my core and glutes, I've found myself reflecting on shopping—a task my friends approach with enthusiasm akin to a theater premiere. Perhaps due to my mother’s differing tastes, I've never been particularly excited about the process of window shopping, wandering between stores, and sifting through items. The whole experience leaves me feeling drained.

Moreover, I have practical considerations. The more possessions one acquires, the greater the burden of maintaining, storing, and transporting them becomes. An overstuffed suitcase can lead to extra fees and potential injury.

I also harbor an ideological disdain for shopping, viewing it as the ultimate consumer pastime. We engage in this activity, accumulating what George Carlin humorously referred to as “stuff,” only to realize we have far too much. Just like birds shed feathers, we too undergo a process of shedding—letting go of our belongings.

Marie Kondo, the renowned decluttering expert, proposes that we keep only what brings us joy. This raises an essential question: why do we purchase these items to begin with?

With age comes wisdom regarding material possessions. When I sold my home of 29 years and considered storing boxes filled with books and trinkets “for later,” a friend named Marge, who was then 101, brought me back to reality. “What do you expect to do…go visit it?” she asked, shaking me from my delusions.

Chapter 2: Preparing for the Shopping Challenge

These days, I like to think I shop only when absolutely necessary. However, my mind can play tricks on me. For instance, my recent visit to the French department store, BHV (pronounced “bay-ahsh-vay”), was supposedly motivated by my third grandson's upcoming Bar Mitzvah.

I still have the outfit from his older brothers' celebrations—leather pants paired with a sparkly top. My inner "Hip Granny" guides my fashion choices, though I know that no one (besides my daughter, who has assisted me in shopping before) will recall what I wore.

Nonetheless, I convinced myself to explore new options and mentally prepared for the experience. To my surprise, what I found was an unexpected form of exercise.

Chapter 3: Shopping Zumba—A Fitness Routine in Disguise

Admittedly, a fitting room at BHV is an unconventional place for a workout. It's smaller than most shower stalls, lacking a stool or shelf for personal items—just two hooks on one wall. Yet, trying on clothes in that cramped space surprisingly mirrors a well-structured fitness routine.

To engage in “Shopping Zumba,” you might need to be like me: over 50 and not particularly fond of exercise. I also favor what were once called “peg-legged” pants—now referred to as “matchstick” at places like J. Crew. This choice adds an additional layer of challenge to the Shopping Zumba experience.

Inside the fitting room, anxious to keep my belongings off the often-dusty floor, I hang my jacket, scarf, purse, and small tote on one hook while stacking hangers with tops and pants on the other.

Here’s how the Shopping Zumba routine unfolds:

1. Squat and Balance: Remove shoes while leaning on the wall—thankfully, the plain walls provide support.
2. Stretch: Raise arms to take off the tee and roll shoulders, warming up my muscles.
3. Push Down: As I hold the pants at the waist, I engage my core, avoiding strain on my back.
4. Bend Forward: Touch my toes while shimmying the jeans down to mid-thigh, being mindful of my back.
5. Reach: Grab the pant hem, a more strenuous task due to my matchstick legs, which don't lend themselves to easy removal.
6. Pull and Balance: Remove the first pant leg while balancing on one foot, utilizing the walls for stability.
7. Straighten Up: Stand tall without wobbling.
8. Breathe: Find my center before continuing.
9. Lift: Repeat the pull-and-balance process to remove the jeans completely.

At this point, I’m left in my underwear, hoping the heavy curtains don’t part to reveal my half-dressed state—another whimsical thought fueled by the belief that anyone would actually care to look!

I’m already feeling exhausted, as if I’ve been through an intense workout. However, the Shopping Zumba class is far from finished. I still have 125 pairs of skinny jeans to try on and several tops with built-in bras that will add further stretching to the routine. To try them on, I must first remove my own bra!

Repeat this sequence as needed—stretching, pushing, balancing, bending, pulling, and lifting each item I try on. Add in some complaining, and I assure you: it feels just like gym class.

Chapter 4: The Lesson Learned

To be transparent, despite bringing only a dozen items into the fitting room, the repeated on-and-off process—punctuated by the occasional check-ins from the sales staff—made it feel as though I had tried on 125 items.

“Why subject yourself to this?” my inner Hip Granny whispers. “You’re perfectly fine as you are. Have you forgotten my well-earned confidence?”

And remember, this isn’t even your event!

When it comes to fitness, I’m as much of a fan of exercise as I am of shopping. My spirit is reluctant, and my body aches—largely due to my internal resistance, which complicates everything. The difference is that you typically feel better after a workout (or so I’m told), while shopping just leaves me fatigued.

Possible Solutions:

• Listen to my inner Hip Granny—the voice that encourages me towards a fulfilling elderhood, different from youth but equally rewarding.
• Get in better shape so shopping doesn’t feel hazardous. I need to keep trying; I know what’s beneficial for me.
• Reread this piece the next time I feel the urge to “need” something new.

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