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Published: April 9th 2009
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mirror, mirror on the wall
...trying on a jacket at tailor #4 Confessions of a Shopaholic ***Warning: the following blog depicts actual events of a man and woman turned consumer-driven-maniacs. The names and identities have been change to protect the innocent. It’s not pretty folks and those involved swear they are truly ashamed of their behaviour. Reader discretion is advised...*** With a title like that it would be surprising for most people to learn that it is actually me, “Hank”, that will be writing this blog. I don’t know exactly what came over me, but the town of Hoi An appealed to every purchasing fiber in my body and I acted on it. Normally I’m the type of person that shops enough times in a year to actually remember every outing and every purchase I have made, or better yet, I would leave those kind of decisions up to my better half. As we strolled down the tailor-lined streets for the first time however, “Sheila” and I both knew we were in trouble.
Now although I can’t think of a situation where a custom tailored superhero cape or a nice new pair of circa-1980’s authentic Hulk Hogan wrestling boots would ever come in handy, I’d be lying if I told
you the thought of getting sized up for both these items hadn’t popped in my head. The truth is, you can’t imagine the effects that unusually-low priced garments take on one’s mind. Now after the fact, I am proud to say that I was able to finally get my head on straight and stay focused on the items that I may actually be able to use.
After taking a 12 hour all nighter “sleeper bus” (think barely long enough for your legs recliner like chairs that don’t fully recline) we arrived in Hoi An at 7 am. The first day we took it easy and simply strolled through the beautiful city center, taking in the sights of various fabric designs and smells of fresh baked bread and the local specialty, Cao Lau (a local delicacy that has to made only using the water drawn from a specific well within the city in order to be considered authentic). This city, similar to Luang Prabang in Laos, is yet another French colonial-inspired, UNESCO world heritage city which means that we were once again ever in the presence of gourmet coffee and freshly made baguettes on every corner (not that the rest
Chicken Feet!
ha, this is one of my favourites! of Vietnam is particularly lacking in abundance of either of these two items). However, in addition to the estimated 500-600 tailors that inhabit the city, Hoi An is home to some of the more delicious specialties we have had in Vietnam so we are proud to say that we have left the baguettes behind in favour of some of the more local options (the coffee however continues to be a highly anticipated staple each day).
By nightfall, and after having been through a half a dozen tailors at this point, we (read: “I, Hank”) decided it was time to get down to business. I started off slow at first, “just one shirt to start and we’ll see how it goes,” I said....to the first tailor we visited that night, anyways. I blame them....they make it just so easy to keep thinking up new things that you “just have to have.” I mean, they found a way to eliminate the most hated part of shopping to a man: the part where you have to try on multiple things until the right thing that suits you is given the go ahead...I hate that. Here however, all they do is take a
bunch of measurements and poof...the next day a new suit magically appears! Brilliant! They’re all like Vietnamese Santa Clauses! By the time our heads hit the pillow on that first night, I was struggling to keep straight the times I had arranged for all of the fittings of my soon-to-be 2 new suits, 3 dress shirts and pair of lightweight cargo pants (hey, I was a boy scout and I was taught to “always be prepared”; after all, what if I got an important job interview tomorrow and then had to go for an afternoon hike up a mountain? It could happen). In my dreams that night, I found myself wondering “is there anything they can’t make here?” Well, actually there is: screened T-shirts. Arguably the item I was most anticipating after my first day in this free-for-all was a custom made “I am not a lumberjack...” T-shirt (think back to the commercial for Molson Canadian dispelling all of the Canadian clichés). I awoke the next morning with quite a purchasing hangover (so this is what women must feel like the next day when they tally all of the receipts of the previous day’s shopping bender), but I was so
..."A shoe store, great idea....how about 20 of them in a row?"
As you can see, copyright laws are very laxical here and the idea of spreading out from where your competition may be is unheard of excited to see what my custom made-beer T-shirt would look like so I decided to forego breakfast until I had a little peak at my new purchases (note to audience: I do realize how much of a spoiled child I must come across as at this point, however the two of us missed Christmas this past year in the traditional North American-overconsumption commercialized holiday sense that it has become, so give us some slack!). Much to my displeasure however, I arrived to see my baby made out of nothing more than cheap fabric and puffy paint. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, I said “puffy paint!” Who still uses that? Isn’t that the stuff that all the girls in grade school used to use to make their “I’ll miss you when you go off to high school, Love your BFF” T-shirts out of? We were not amused. My three-piece suit and the rest of the ensemble however turned out better than expected, so we were able to carry on with our day.
By the end of day two, “Sheila” had gotten into a groove and she is now the proud new owner of a couple funky dresses, a skirt, a
replica of her favourite pair of Lulu Lemon’s and a new colder-weather jacket that will come in handy for when we eventually reach New Zealand.
...they say the first step to recovery is admitting it... Alright, so there you have it folks. That is our shameful story of our time in a beautiful city named Hoi An. To close, “our names are Matt and Lindsay and we are shopaholics.”
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Julie
non-member comment
oh no!
hey guys.... just wanted to say.....I saw the pic of the old lady chewing betal nut....hopefully you guys didn't have any - it's not good for you and causes cancer! Serious! say away!!!! Love you!