In big department stores, she finds the answers to all of life’s questions. On shelves, packages sit, waiting to be claimed. Something to make her smarter, more beautiful, smoother, softer, more radiant, less fat, pinker, more organic and what not. She wonders if people who stuff themselves with organic food are kinder to the earth when they are buried. A question fitting a PhD thesis.
At home, she has five different lotions to aid her skin’s way to stardom. At least two of them promise easier relationships with men. Apparently having glowing skin mesmerizes men to the point of stupidity. Who was she to argue with corporate intelligence? After each trip to the department store, she is able to take stock of her life with ease. A look at the itemized bill reveals her subconscious. God, speaks to her through shopping lists.
She walks into the pink and blue shopping aisle by mistake. Symbols of maternal love piled on each other. Nappies, oils, shampoos. So babies can be wrapped in layers of wonderful smells and powders. She’s tired of beautifying herself. She wishes she had a baby. So she could buy all these divine smelling potions to pat on a three month old baby’s jelly bottom. Besides, shopping for babies is easier than shopping for adults. A baby can’t say “No, that ass cream is too feminine. I don’t want you to do my shopping for me.”. It just sits there, submitting itself to an adult’s retail dream.
She picks up a bottle of Baby Oil. The message on it sounds a bit odd. “Makes your skin soft as a baby’s.”. Maybe this pink and baby blue goodness isn’t meant for little ones after all. It lands with a thump in her cart, right next to the organic toilet cleaner.
ennamo pongo, orre poignant
Very well written. I like the small off-hand thoughts going on the woman’s mind and other such lovely details, you notice and capture in your fiction-tagged posts.
Nice. (I need to look up for something else to say next)
Every Focus Group I do promises me that these products not only eases relationships with men but it enhances confidence levels, improves self worth, helps you grow a mind, cleanses your soul, the works. And even though one is aware of the whole corporate conspiracy, that thing with feathers makes you want to be at it.
By the way, are you suggesting that babies don’t have a mind of their own? Heh!
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The loneliness of the department store shopper! Well captured, as usual. I think the Mad Mommas impending delivery has made us all much ‘broodier’ than usual -all the best to her and all the other folks in the pink and blue aisle, mothers or not!
Nilu: What to do? We are poignant peoples only.
Sneha: I do wonder though – do I get the men’s minds right? Sometimes I am not sure what they feel is entirely different. Perhaps the syntax is different.
Primalsoup: Exactly! Even as you know that they are dishing these completely flimsy and pointless promises – you still go ahead and buy every product. And if you’re like me – announce after two and a half days that the product doesn’t work. Babies have minds? Seriously? Heee Heee.
dipali: Oh yes. I believe the blogosphere is “pregnant” with anticipation. We all look forward to the Bean. I foolishly believe that Mad Momma may become twice as prolific. Which is more fun for me and my feedreader.
Nice blog.
Came here through Twisted’s blog…
-Srikanth
but really, baby moisturiser is the loveliest. it even smells toomuch.