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Men, at best, are reluctant shoppers. So many of them don't want to be there. That is, in the stores, the malls, especially the malls, window shopping, out there aimlessly walking. It is a painful and meaningless experience for most.
I work in a men's clothing store. I see couples arrive in the shop. The men look agitated, some of the women do, too. Sometimes frayed at the edges, a touch haggard. I greet them in an upbeat manner.
"Good afternoon, may I help you find something?"
The man is a mute.
The wife says, "I am looking to dress my husband."
After a pause she adds, "If I didn't pick out his clothes he would probably go naked."
I am sensing tension.
I inquire, "What would you like to see?"
The man struggles, he stutters, he pauses, looks at his left foot and finally says, as if in physical pain
"Slacks."
I see relief from his wife. Her body language speaks volumes. Her husband has spoken an English word in a clothing shop and has initiated the shopping process. This is all good. It is like a breakthrough in therapy – after the crisis comes progress. We may now proceed with some vigour in the selection of the pants.
Many men, I have discovered, cannot dress themselves, or at least not adequately. Generally, they do not even know what they want or need and have trouble discerning a want from a need. These men lack comprehension of style, form, function, co-ordination, colour, pattern sense and fit. Consequently, women bear the burden of proof and must coax and prod their men to those first tentative steps toward wardrobe acquisition. If it does not come naturally, it is a married man's cross, albatross and perpetual burden to carry through life.
These men, for example, will come in to our shop at noon to get a black suit for a wedding or funeral to be held that very same day. They will often buy the first suit they try on, which on one level is an example of time-management skills and should be respected as such; but is so wrong on so many other levels I don't know where to begin.
Some men will not even enter a clothing store – expecting their wives to bring clothing selections curbside to the waiting car or home, only to have a great proportion of them returned later.
Not all men have an instinctual aversion to shopping, there are those who actually like to shop and come in on a regular basis. My rising star was a fifty-something mechanic who met an "exotic flower" at the produce section of the local supermarket. He got up his nerve and had asked her out on a date. He knew she was out of his league and came in for a new wardrobe. What he needed even more was my encouragement and insights on how she was indeed right for him, how he needed to keep this date, how good he would look if only he would believe in himself.
Sure, I sold him several outfits, more importantly, I sent that man out the door with a new confidence. He needed more than clothing. Sometimes shopping is therapy.
I see them all: Farmers come in to be transformed by suit and tie as groomsmen in spring and summer weddings. Old men shop in traditional ways for their non-elastic socks and made-in-Canada Stanfield underwear. In most cases, established through years of repetition with female assistance, some men reach a level of pseudo-independence.
But the couple in the shop today aren't there yet.
"How does this look dear?"
"Whatever you think." She tries to push the eaglet out of the nest: "Just pick one."
And then a set back. "I hate shopping can we go now? Please don't get me more pants."
She tries distraction.
"Go look for some more underwear, you know the kind you like."
"Would you look at the label of what I'm wearing?" he asks.
I avert my eyes.
She seems to be giving her husband a wedgie but she is simply reading the label on his underwear.
He gets back on the pant theme and attempts a bit of wit.
"I have a closet full of pants. I only need three and can only wear one at a time!" Then, in an aside to me: "Everytime we come in here she has me try on pants. I'll do it. I just want to keep her happy."
In the end, it is all about domestic peace.
"Now," she adds, "try on this polo top." This wife attacks in small increments. I see she is good at what she does.
"You know they will shrink a bit." He tells her in an attempt to sound knowledgeable.
He goes into the change room. There is a long silence.
"Can I come in?" she says as she opens the door to the changing room.
The wife comes out with the polo shirt and hands it to me. "It's a no go. He likes a really loose fit."
She knows her man.
Eventually, he comes out, proudly places one pair of black Wrangler jeans and a pair of Stanfield underwear on the counter and says in a definitive manly tone, "I'll take those."
A man of action and independence.
Marty Rempel lives in Waterloo, Ont.