Confusion ..

I approached a beige wearing couple who were glancing at the chinos folded neatly on the table. New season, gorgous, flattering, uplifting, chocolate Brown, teal, blue, green, navy, stone, biscuit, lilac, burgandy. They were displayed alongside bright, checked cotton shirts, v-necked wool jumpers, and various polo tops. Very smart and colourful indeed.

'Good morning. Would you like me to find your size?', l said, looking at the man.

'Do you do these in beige?', the woman asked, without looking at me. If there was ever a case of someone wearing the trousers, l was in her presence!

'l'm afraid not', l replied, smiling. 'How about these stone coloured ones? Those are similar to beige, would you reckon? And they would go nicely with the smart jacket and shoes he has on. He has such a good physique and these would be perfect for his colouring, too'.

I held the chinos up near the poor bloke who was head-down, shuffling in the corner.

'Oh, they don't match at all', she barked, and grabbed the offensive trousers off me, possessively shoving him towards the exit.

I totally ignored her, and picked up the biscuit ones, along with a maroon three button polo shirt. Walking over to the emasculated man, l said, 'Would you like to slip these on? The fitting room is in here'.

'Oh, he NEVER wears those colours. He look hideous in anything like that. Anyway, I decide what he buys, as he's got no taste or sense of style. Alright?', she warned. I looked at the man, and he shrank under her glare

This is so not about a pair of troosers. It never is ..

I felt a rush of pity for the poor guy. I've seen it a thousand times, powerful at work men, who are hen-pecked and bullied at home, young w.a.g.s who are beautiful, but jealous of their stunning boyfriends.

I picked up the clothes, ready to fold and then replace on the display unit. I put the tissue paper inside the top, carefully folding it back to its original work of art ..

'Give me that nice top in a large, dear. And the navy trousers in my size, whatever you think l am', the husband says to me, stomping into the changing room. 'Oh, and how about a nice, bright pair of socks to go with it. Bring out my eyes'. I ran over to the accessories, and picked up a few pairs of socks and a belt. The woman had crumbled before me, so l placed the merchandise on a table, laying the exact pieces of clothing her husband was trying on near her, and asked her to choose what she thought was best. Reluctantly, she pointed at one pair and a belt, so l suggested to her to join him inside the little changing room, as it contained a chair for her to sit on. He was in heaven, admiring himself in his new, non beige attire.

'I do like it, dear,' he said. 'What do you think?'.

'You look very nice, and those colours are perfect actually, darling'.

As l closed the door and left them to it, l knew that l had sorted out not only his wardrobe, but also his self-esteem.

Another good job done ..