5 Reasons Why I Don’t Enjoy Sales

sale

It is a strange phenomenon to me why people, specifically ladies, love sales. Mid-season, end-of-season, last of a range, whatever. One of the most stressful shopping expeditions I have ever experienced was the June sale in River Island on Oxford Street a couple years ago. The scene was something out of a shopping horror movie and I was the star, running and screaming out of that store after 15 minutes!

Here are 5 reasons why I don’t enjoy sales:

1. The store is an absolute shambles

There are millions of people, there are clothes all over the floor and hanging strangely off hangers, and I get stressed the hell out! I am an absolute fan of order, everyone at work teases me because they know how I am with people ‘borrowing’ my stationery (I still haven’t gotten my scissors back) or moving my notebooks, so you can imagine the internal panic that ensues when I see the chaos in-store. I enjoy a shopping environment where stores are quieter (you won’t see me shopping often on a Saturday) and when the rails are packed neatly and in some kind of logical order. I actually prefer a week after the new stock is in, people have calmed down and I can choose my new outfits in my own, sweet time.

2. They never have it in my size

Joy for me, I am a pretty regular sized lass. I am a small, 32/34 and a size 4 shoe. That means whenever I go check out those dreadful sales racks and shelves I often find a size 30 or 38 dress and a size 8 shoe, I can’t even make that work and I fancy myself a whizz in the dressing department…

3. The staff are flustered and stressed out

I like having the opportunity to ask shop staff where I can find a particular item I need or one I have seen in a magazine or if they (by any chance) have one in my size in the back. During sales the staff is so manic and the environment is so unsettling that often they appear rude or lacklustre. This does not allow for an enjoyable shopping experience.

4. The lines are way too long

Have you ever been to Primark on Oxford Street in London? The prices are so low that it is basically a ‘sale’ every day. And the queues?? Crazy long is a great way to describe them. Now I very often do not try on items in store (depending on return policy) as I enjoy the lighting at my home, where I can try on different shoes and style the outfit the way I want. But, often during the sales season the queues to try on clothes are so long that you can wait easily 30 minutes to try on an item or two. Then there’s the queue to pay or return something (hence my mention of trying on items at home). My feet are sore, my back is killing me, I don’t have enough hands to carry all my new gear, and now I have to wait what feels like forever to actually buy the articles I have just spent an hour deciding on? No way.

5. I often just buy something because it’s a sale, and its price, but I actually don’t LOVE the piece

It’s that guilt we all feel. “There’s a sale, I have to buy something!” Of course you don’t!! Whilst getting into my shopping groove over the last year I have many of these little blunders, a pair of the most uncomfortable brogues in the world, blue ‘jeans’ (they look like part of a construction uniform) that just don’t fit, and the pretty gross makeup at Clicks that are thrown in bowls for people to sift through, yuck. One of my very important shopping rules, only buy it if you LOVE it! Simple, right? I am also too stressed out to wait and see if an expensive item I have my eye on will still be around by the time the sale starts. You will almost always regret NOT doing something than regret doing it in the first place, so if there is an item you really love – SPLURGE! You probably will not regret it in the future.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my anecdotes of shopping horror, but also do what feels right for you. Don’t forget to share your sale horrors with me, tweet me @CamGildenhuys




There is 1 comment

Add yours
  1. NigelDixon

    Couldn’t agree more… the frantic panic from people just collecting armfulls of clothes they don’t really want but are too scared to put down in case someone else grabs it. There’s got to be a psychotic term for this somewhere.


Post a new comment