Brian Kantz, Buffalo, NY-based writer and editor

THE NEWBIE DAD - NOVEMBER 2008

Outside the Dressing Room

So there I was standing in the corner of a nice women’s clothing store — Ann Taylor’s or Ann Klein’s or Ann Somebody’s — when I announced, quite sternly, to a row of tweed blazers: “That’s it. You need to listen to me right now and behave. I know that it’s warm in the mall, but you’ll only be in here a little while longer, then we’ll go home and have a cold drink.”

Just at that moment, a smartly dressed woman in her forties walked by, heard my little speech and shot me a wide-eyed look. She obviously thought I was bonkers. If you happened to be in the store that day, too, I thank you for not reporting me to mall security or the 19-year-old, power-hungry, headset-wearing assistant manager.

Luckily, I wasn’t bonkers. I was just talking to my two sons who were hiding behind the row of clothes. Our family was at the mall for an afternoon of shopping and my wife decided to take a quick look for something for her own wardrobe.

The trouble is, taking two brothers — ages three and one — into a women’s clothing store is kind of like taking a bag of Redenbacher into a microwave. Something’s gotta pop.

Eventually, the boys spring out from behind the rows of clothes like two rabbits flushed from their hole. The older boy leads the way. His younger brother shrieks with excitement until, four seconds later, he runs smack into the leg of a display table. Momentarily stunned, he shakes it off and continues the festivities.

There’s not a whole lot I can do to stop the madness, so I simply try to direct them toward quieter, less obtrusive activities. We amuse ourselves as best we can, all while my wife circles the store, gathering items for her one trip into the dressing room. She’s learned that’s all she gets. The boys and I sneak up on ourselves in the full-length mirrors and laugh. I’ve found that a three-year-old will enjoy that bit about seven times; the one-year-old doesn’t get tired of it until the fifteenth time.

The older boy is also fascinated by the mannequins. Are they real people standing very still? Robots? Aliens? He’s not quite sure. He runs his hand up the leg of one plastic woman who is sporting this fall’s trendy new skirt and stockings. It’s like watching Ralphie Parker — you know, the kid from the holiday cult classic, A Christmas Story. In the movie, Ralphie’s father wins a lamp in the shape of a woman’s leg, complete with fishnet stockings and a high heel shoe. “It’s a leg… like in a statue,” his father explains. “Yeah, statue,” Ralphie coos as he caresses the leg. When my son unwittingly repeats that movie scene, I chuckle to myself, “Yeah, statue.” Then, I snap out of it and tell the kid to cut it out.

We do find other stuff to do. My younger son looks out of the store’s front window, waving at the mall patrons who strut by. Most see him, but offer no response. Others smile, wave, point, and blow kisses. The impromptu love-fest is finally ruined when the two brothers start poking at each other, which touches off the dreaded double-tantrum. My wife races from the back of the store. “I guess my time’s up, huh?” she asks already knowing the answer. She doesn’t want to buy any of the thirteen items she tried on anyway.

It only took until the 1990s for some genius women’s clothing store proprietor to come up with the idea for a “guy’s chair.” You’ve seen it, that one little chair tucked in an out-of-the way corner where a guy is supposed to just sit and wait while his significant other tries on outfits. The seat is typically occupied by some poor sap wearing his favorite team’s ballcap. Looking forlorn, he sits there knowing full well that at that moment he is missing the game of the year. At least he has a place to park himself. It makes me wonder: why haven’t any women’s clothing stores installed a “family nook” with seating, activities and refreshments for the whole wild crew?

This holiday season, I’m sure we’ll be out for another family shopping trip to the mall. And I’m sure that my wife will want to make a quick stop to find something new to wear. If you happen to see a guy muttering to a rack of winter coats, be sure to stop and say hi.


Brian Kantz



		© 2008 Brian Kantz • All rights reserved • Contact Brian

	THE NEWBIE DAD - NOVEMBER 2008 Outside the Dressing Room So there I was standing in the corner of a nice women’s clothing store — Ann Taylor’s or Ann Klein’s or Ann Somebody’s — when I announced, quite sternly, to a row of tweed blazers: “That’s it. You need to listen to me right now and behave. I know that it’s warm in the mall, but you’ll only be in here a little while longer, then we’ll go home and have a cold drink.” Just at that moment, a smartly dressed woman in her forties walked by, heard my little speech and shot me a wide-eyed look. She obviously thought I was bonkers. If you happened to be in the store that day, too, I thank you for not reporting me to mall security or the 19-year-old, power-hungry, headset-wearing assistant manager. Luckily, I wasn’t bonkers. I was just talking to my two sons who were hiding behind the row of clothes. Our family was at the mall for an afternoon of shopping and my wife decided to take a quick look for something for her own wardrobe. The trouble is, taking two brothers — ages three and one — into a women’s clothing store is kind of like taking a bag of Redenbacher into a microwave. Something’s gotta pop. Eventually, the boys spring out from behind the rows of clothes like two rabbits flushed from their hole. The older boy leads the way. His younger brother shrieks with excitement until, four seconds later, he runs smack into the leg of a display table. Momentarily stunned, he shakes it off and continues the festivities. There’s not a whole lot I can do to stop the madness, so I simply try to direct them toward quieter, less obtrusive activities. We amuse ourselves as best we can, all while my wife circles the store, gathering items for her one trip into the dressing room. She’s learned that’s all she gets. The boys and I sneak up on ourselves in the full-length mirrors and laugh. I’ve found that a three-year-old will enjoy that bit about seven times; the one-year-old doesn’t get tired of it until the fifteenth time. The older boy is also fascinated by the mannequins. Are they real people standing very still? Robots? Aliens? He’s not quite sure. He runs his hand up the leg of one plastic woman who is sporting this fall’s trendy new skirt and stockings. It’s like watching Ralphie Parker — you know, the kid from the holiday cult classic, A Christmas Story. In the movie, Ralphie’s father wins a lamp in the shape of a woman’s leg, complete with fishnet stockings and a high heel shoe. “It’s a leg… like in a statue,” his father explains. “Yeah, statue,” Ralphie coos as he caresses the leg. When my son unwittingly repeats that movie scene, I chuckle to myself, “Yeah, statue.” Then, I snap out of it and tell the kid to cut it out. We do find other stuff to do. My younger son looks out of the store’s front window, waving at the mall patrons who strut by. Most see him, but offer no response. Others smile, wave, point, and blow kisses. The impromptu love-fest is finally ruined when the two brothers start poking at each other, which touches off the dreaded double-tantrum. My wife races from the back of the store. “I guess my time’s up, huh?” she asks already knowing the answer. She doesn’t want to buy any of the thirteen items she tried on anyway. It only took until the 1990s for some genius women’s clothing store proprietor to come up with the idea for a “guy’s chair.” You’ve seen it, that one little chair tucked in an out-of-the way corner where a guy is supposed to just sit and wait while his significant other tries on outfits. The seat is typically occupied by some poor sap wearing his favorite team’s ballcap. Looking forlorn, he sits there knowing full well that at that moment he is missing the game of the year. At least he has a place to park himself. It makes me wonder: why haven’t any women’s clothing stores installed a “family nook” with seating, activities and refreshments for the whole wild crew? This holiday season, I’m sure we’ll be out for another family shopping trip to the mall. And I’m sure that my wife will want to make a quick stop to find something new to wear. If you happen to see a guy muttering to a rack of winter coats, be sure to stop and say hi.