Monday, 21 March 2016

The Twelve Stages Of Shopping In Primark

When I was writing up my Primark haul I had a short brainwave that I just knew I had to act on. It occurred to me that shopping in Primark (or Primarni better known to some) isn't just an ordinary task, it is in fact a wild journey that brings an influx of emotions, thoughts and feelings and although there may have been similar posts that have been done before, I felt it was only necessary to share my take on having an open door to the spellbinding store and the stages we go through when we take a deep breath and head forward - because, let's face it, no matter what our status or how much we're in denial, we're all Primark worshippers at heart.

stage one: the pre preparing | it tends to be a ritual from the minute you leave your house to the moment you're walking towards the huge blue sign and the security guard who most probably knows your name by now. Your mind is often running with the idea you will NOT over spend, buy silly, pointless things, and fall into the beguiling trap; all of which backfire once you're in there, of course.

stage two: the excitement upon entering | as soon as you burst into the door all arms open, the overwhelming amount of colours, rails full of goodness and profuse bombarded spaces hit you full force. You've already seen at least three items you need to get your hands on, so it's time to grab that wheelie basket and go raiding. 

stage three: the immediate wandering | the moment you arrive at your Primark destination, eyes are deeply infused into every inch of every section to ensure you don't miss a thing. It even goes as far as the baggage you don't need. You own an uncountable number of basic £2 t-shirts in each colour but you'll pop another in your basket anyway because you might as well whilst you're here. Ohhh and is that cotton pads I spy? Yep, I'll have four packets, please.

stage four: the browsing | the browsing long continues for a good hour or so and you often get worried the staff will judge you for hovering round, back and forth in the same spot intensely or pacing the shop for miles searching for a suitable full length mirror. Not to mention that display you're so desperate to rummage in but daren't because the shop floor staff have only just rearranged and tidied. I guess I'll just have to wait another ten minutes then, just to be sure.  

stage five: the discoveries | there's a world full of opportunity in Primark, ranging from tacky to classy, to cheap to a little bit pricier which means it leaves room for you to get too exhilarated about the excellent creations found within. There's the random bits and bobs like false nails, key chains and phone cases, the Disney t-shirts that aren't really appropriate for anyone older than six but you love them anyway, there's the fluffy socks, the pugs, doughnuts and cutesy animations printed on every accessory... EVERYTHING IS JUST FABULOUS. And then when you're done squeal-obsessing and it dies down to a more serious endeavour, you spot an item that looks super chic and expensive, pray they have your size before you even root through, rejoice when they do, and then go on to explain how it's such a bargain because you can find an 'almost identical piece in Topshop that would have been £20 more'! 

stage six: the debating |  by the time you've reached this point, your basket is guaranteed to be piled up, yet you've strolled past another section and seen something else that's tickled your fancy. Picking up and putting down, contemplating whether you should get rid of those rings that will more than likely make your fingers green, then realising £2.50 won't really make a difference to the grand total. You just can't hold off from anything because that voice in your head is telling you do it, do it, or it might be sold out when you come back another day and you can't be having that post shopping regret hanging over you now, can you? So many first world problems.

stage seven: disappointment | it's not a trip to Primark without a smidgen of disappointment; not being able to find that shirt you saw on the latest vlogger's haul or the outfit in the window (do the shop models even wear their own clothes??), the refusal to pay over £10 because that's damn right outrageous (even if in other stores it's immensely cheap), the attempt to ignore the mess that really does bother you as you trample across it, and the unfortunate avoidance of the lingerie section to search for the £1.70 priced pair of knickers you desperately need to stock up on purely because it resembles a bomb site. Such a shame. 

stage eight: the panic | it's all well and good dragging your mum along or your equally Primark addicted pals who aren't the slightest bit bothered you're wasting your life in there because they're willing to do exactly the same, but when you lose your accompaniments in the mass as you whiz off like a mad woman it sends nothing but sheer fear and it means you have to dedicate even more of your schedule to searching down every aisle (if you can call it that). Even then it usually sequels in a phone call of answers because you're just too damn tired to hunt the large store. 

stage nine: the rage | by now you're probably well aware of the irritability you're starting to feel; you're fed up but you're nowhere near done, you are one hundred percent sure the temperature levels have soared as you start to degradingly sweat, the head to head competition between one last item and two determined members of the public ready to fight for it, the intolerable crowd of people (especially those visiting from another country who have never experienced the Primark atmosphere before), and Primark on a weekend? Don't even bother.

stage ten: the changing room break | your arms are ready to break and you have an unseen view of the situation behind you due to the build up of clothing in your basket BUT it doesn't stop there. It may be time to go try all said clothing on but you're still gonna have to roam repeatedly due to the not particularly beneficial 8 items only limit. May as well crack out your evening meal and top up your make-up whilst you're sat down next to the mirror questioning your existence, though. Spending half your life shopping is a tiring job, you don't get time for food or sprucing up, no-uh. 

stage eleven: the queuing | finally, you've decided what you're definitely buying and you're slowly making your way to the tills. The horror washes over you as you realise the queue is abnormally long but it doesn't put you off. You've just gotta get on with it, deal with the crying babies, be influenced by the in your face products featured next to the tills, smell the candles, place more in your basket, grab the sweets and breath spray because, er, you'll never know when you'll need it, and hold your head up high.

stage twelve: the aftermath | you're out, you made it, you deserve a pat on the back and a huge cheer - until you realise you forgot to look at a certain section you actually went in for, that is. Aiming to just call in for a pair of tights - walks out without a pair of tights and two whole bags full of stuff you have no room for.  As the initial shock, guilt and remorse about how much you spent (the totalling up at the counter almost made you faint) wears off, you wonder how you ever managed without a sassy slogan top and those super soft feel pyjama bottoms, and you're absolutely delighted you managed to bag an entire wardrobes full for the same cost of just one or two items elsewhere. THEN, just as you thought you were out of the exhaustion zone, your paper bag (or two) splits. Remind me again why I love Primark so much?

Are these stages familiar to you? Hope you managed to get a lol out of this Monday morning start to a four day week! 

Bridie x

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