As Always
by Stella (Hae Young) Kim, Special Contributor

It's always a nice day with the sun up there somewhere in the clouds when my mom and I decide to go "eye-shopping." It's always a spontaneous suggestion from my mom that I always agree to. And it's always the same stores that we visit in the neighborhood: Gap, Banana Republic, J.Crew, and Eileen Fisher.

As we walk up the one or two avenues and the one or two streets, we enjoy ourselves with girl talk.

"Your dad is the most horrible human, no, thing alive!"

I smile.

"He never listens! I give up! See if I care anymore! He can go smoke up his already disgusting, black lungs out for all I care! Oh Jesus! Why I married him! I should have listened to my parents when they warned me about him . . ."

My mom could probably outdo Homer and his Odyssey. She would write about all the things she cannot tolerate about my dad. It would be titled: My Ultimate Mistake - My Husband. She would probably start off with how her parents cautioned her against marrying him from the beginning. They warned her that she would not be happy because he was poor and she would suffer from his failures. They married anyway and my mom, as always, is suffering - suffering from having too much satisfaction in her life.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your dad is such a . . . such an . . . oh, for chrissake, I don't like that man!"

I giggle.

We finally reach our "shopping center," and the light turns to "DON'T WALK."

"Where shall we go first? You want to go to the Gap first? But we missed the light, so let's go to Glen Ellen first, ok?"

I laugh at her, "Eileen Fisher, mom."

"Yeah, Ei . . .Glen Ellen. C'mon."

As always, my mom mis-names clothing stores. The only one she can ever get right is the Gap, and just the Banana in Banana Republic. Being a wine storeowner for almost eight years, she simply associates clothing store names with a similar wine's name. For instance, she calls Eileen Fisher "Glen Ellen" (a cheap $4.99 wine). Then she calls J. Crew "Jacobs' Creek" (famous for its Chardonnay). And every time she mis-names them, I enjoy a good laugh.

"Hey, how about this shirt?"

"Are you willing to pay $128, mom?"
She quietly hangs the shirt back on the line.

"Why is Glen Ellen so expensive? Don't they know there are people starving out there with no clothes on?"

"Probably because they use nice material to make the clothing."

"Probably. You're right. Remember those white pants I got here? The $100 ones? I wore those all summer long without breaking any sweat."

I sure remember those pants (that she still has for the upcoming summer). She couldn't sleep that night after buying it. She couldn't believe she had spent over a hundred dollars on pants. She woke up the next day early in the morning, and I found her folding up the pants and putting it back into an Eileen Fisher bag.

I had come into her room and I remember taking the pants out, telling her how nice she looked in them. I flattered her with words she never expected. I told her that it's okay and that she needed some zest in her life. She needs to be fashionable but not too pretentious. I told her that she couldn't go wearing my ripped and colorless clothing forever. After a good 30 minutes of my speech, I convinced her to keep the pants.

"C'mon. Let's go to the Gap." It's too expensive here. I'll come back when they have a sale."

We enter the Gap and she becomes occupied with all the new clothing. She starts to pick out a few pieces and shows them to me.

"How about this? You'll look so cute in it . . . These jeans look so comfortable. Try them on . . . You always wanted a jean jacket, pick one out while we're here."
"Mom, it's too expensive. Look, the jeans itself are almost $60."

She suddenly stops browsing the clothes and turns around to face me.

"Do you make the money? No, right? Don't worry about it. I'm paying, not you. " She turns back around to the racks. "Go ahead, pick out the ones you like while we're here."

We grab about half of the Gap's stock with all the available colors and sizes. We go into one of the cleaner fitting rooms and my mom sits down, handing me the first piece of clothing. I put it on, look in the mirror and turn to my mom.

"You never looked good in red. Try the blue one on."

The routine continues and we walk out carrying only a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

"We'll come back next time for new clothes."

We get in line and a cashier calls us over with a wave of a hand and a welcoming smile. She scans the bar codes.

"Your total is $92.00."

My mom already has her wallet ready and pulls out her Visa card. I feel so guilty. While I go and buy almost $100 worth of clothing, my mom doesn't buy anything for herself . . . as always. I never said I liked to shop, I just said it was always a nice day when my mom and I always go shopping.

The cashier hands over a medium-sized Gap shopping bag with a receipt.

"Thank you for shopping at the Gap. Next customer, please." She waves her hand for the next customer with another brilliant smile.

My mom checks the receipt and puts it into her wallet. We walk out of the Gap.

"Let's go see what Jacobs' Creek has."

I smile and I follow after her.

"Mom, J.Crew."

She replies, "I know. Jacobs' Creek," as always.