they take a video. And then the expert would say, ‘We feel the black and white stiletto perfectly suits your awesome supermodel gait.’ And then you’d take the video home to show all your friends. I am
so
suggesting it, next time I’m in there.
‘So here’s the heart monitor I was telling you about …’ The sales assistant, Kai, reappears holding a little metal and rubber bracelet. ‘Like I said, it’s our most discreet model, new to the market. I’m excited to hear your opinion.’
‘Cool!’ I beam at him, and put it on my wrist.
Kai has asked if I’d like to join in a customer study of this new heart monitor, and why not? The only sticky moment was when he asked what heart monitor I was using currently and I didn’t like to say ‘none’, so I said ‘The Curve’ and then realized that’s Luke’s new BlackBerry.
‘Would you like some more coconut water before you start?’
More coconut water. That’s so LA. Everything in this shop is so LA. Kai himself is ripped and tanned and has exactly the optimum amount of stubble and bright turquoise eyes which I’m sure are lenses. He looks so like Jared Leto I wonder whether he went to a surgeon with a picture torn out of
US Weekly
and said, ‘This one, please.’
He’s already dropped into conversation that: 1. He’s modelled for S
ports Illustrated
; 2. He’s working on a script about a sportswear consultant who becomes a movie star; 3. He won Ohio’s Best Pecs three years running and has had his pecs specially insured. He asked me within about thirty seconds whether I worked in the film industry and when I said no, but my husband did, he gave me a card and said, ‘I’d love to meet with him to discuss a venture he might be interested in.’ The idea of Kai and Luke sitting at a table discussing his pecs nearly made me snort out my coconut water.
‘So if you’ll kindly step up here.’ Kai ushers me on to the treadmill. ‘I’ll be taking a record of your heart rate, so we’ll raise it with some aerobic activity and then lower it with rest periods. Just follow the treadmill and you’ll be fine.’
‘Great!’ As I step up, I notice a massive rack of exercise clothes being wheeled on to the shop floor by two sales assistants. Wow. They look amazing – all different shades of purples and greys, with abstract logos and really interesting shapes.
‘What’s that?’ I ask Kai as the treadmill starts to move gently along.
‘Oh.’ He looks at it without interest. ‘That’s from our clearance fashion floor.’
Clearance fashion floor?
No one mentioned a clearance fashion floor. Why didn’t I know about the clearance fashion floor?
‘Weird.’ He peers at his computer screen. ‘Your heart rate just spiked and we didn’t even start the intense activity yet. Oh well.’ He shrugs. ‘Let’s get going.’
The treadmill starts to move along more briskly, and I up my walking pace to match. But I’m distracted by the rack of clothes, because an assistant is putting sale tickets on every garment! I spot a ‘90% off’ sign and crane my neck to see what it’s attached to. Is that a T-shirt? Or a mini-dress? Or—
Oh my God,
look
at that cardigan. I can’t help gasping aloud. That is stunning. It’s longline, in what seems to be grey cashmere, with an oversized, neon-pink zipper, all the way up the front and the back. It’s
gorgeous
.
‘So now we’ll rest for a moment …’ Kai is concentrating on his screen. ‘You’re doing great so far.’
The treadmill slows, but I barely notice. I’m feeling stabs of alarm. A pair of passing girls has seen the rail and fallen on it in delight. I can hear them exclaiming with glee, showing clothes to each other and dumping them in their baskets. They’re taking
everything
! I don’t believe it. The sale of the century is going on, ten yards away, and I’m stuck on this stupid treadmill. As long as they don’t see the cardigan. I will them silently:
Don’t look at the
Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar