Nordstrom

I have a love affair with Nordstrom. It's not that I'm addicted to fashion or clothes or shopping. I don't want to have a fashion blog all about clothes. I'm more than that. But I love the person I become when I'm there. Nordstrom takes me back to well, the good ol' days.

I first discovered Nordstrom when I was 10, actually, compliments of my mother and her best friend. Despite being all the way in another city, 40 minutes away, I insisted upon going whenever I could. I loved being away from my hometown, where I could take on a new persona in the store, and spend all day there. I loved the shoe department, B.P., even the food there. The clothes, though many too expensive or too just plain odd for my taste seemed exotic. I can still try on designer clothes and enjoy it, even if it's bittersweet knowing I can't have them.

The Nordstrom magic was discovered before the messy teenage years. It was before falling in love, and then heartbreak. A heartbreak I still struggle with. It's there to console me, because it never changes, even the one now in my hometown. I get to be a fearless person there, trying on things I wouldn't, spending too much of my parents' money, and spending the day with my Mom or Dad. I feel comfortable inside those Nordstrom walls, because the merchandise changes, but the feeling never does.