Fool that I was I imagined that breezing into Target at 8am this morning would mean a leisurely morning before a late work start to peruse Stella McCartney's new "Target range". I imagined a peaceful start to the day, culminating in me smugly walking out with my new black camisole and cashmere coat before all but the most eager fashionistas were out of bed.
Sadly this was not to be.
Instead I had to witness the sad spectacle of people (okay: girls and women) running towards the racks, pushing past people and knocking them into racks as they did so. Seriously. I felt embarassed as I made my own way to the racks and started thumbing through them in search of my size. Not embarassed enough to snaffle the last size 12, obviously, but, you know, embarassed all the same.
Similarly the sight of women stripping down in public instead of lining up for a change room was all a bit too much that early in the morning. Is anyone really in that much of a hurry? Plus, as Judd pointed out, you can always return it if you got it at Target.
One of the most telling things I saw was women excitedly grabbing at clothes on racks, only to discard them when they checked the label and saw they were part of the not-so-stellar range. (Yes, that's right: Stella/stellar... you see what I did there?) There was definitely a sense that a lot of people were there to get a little piece of something they couldn't usually afford, not because they gave much of a toss about the clothes. I'm not saying I wasn't one of those people but then I didn't imagine for a moment that rack of cream coloured faux-jeans was Stelle McCartney either.
In the end I walked away with nothing. Sadly this is not because I expressed my disgust with the scene by stepping down or taking a stand but, rather, because I discovered only while in the fitting room that the sizes were way too big and some bitch pinched the last size 10 camisole from under my nose. Now her I could happily push into a rack of clothes any day of the week.