Today I did that thing where you run out of things you had planned to do before you have to go and do one thing that has a fixed time, so you can’t go home but you have no reason to be walking around the shops.
I ended up in Urban Outfitters.
It was terrifying.
I’ve never been in there before, and it hit me hard. It was like some bad alternate universe where nothing was as it should be. The music was, for the whole time I was in there, Steve Miller singing ‘Fly Like An Eagle.’ I don’t mean the song, I mean those four words. Over and over. At different pitches.
I picked up a folded t-shirt with a kind of cool design on it and found that, unfolded, it was one foot tall and three foot wide. I picked up a scarf and found it had no beginning and no end, only twisted around on itself like an ouroboros.
The non-clothes section seemed to be where everything on Tumblr with more than 150,000 notes goes to die. There were moustache drinking straws and Lomography fisheye cameras. There were hardback books of Boo, World’s Cutest Dog, and vinyl record players with USB ports.
There were gold flying wall pugs.
I went to try on a shirt and found that the changing rooms were a strange exposed scaffolding zone that looked a lot like the Ikea collections depot. The shirt seemed to have been made for some kind of extremely fashionable and svelte alien being with- judging by where the shoulders sat on me- three breasts. I saw a sticker on the changing room mirror that said ‘Instagram yourself and show us your look on Facebook!’
I left. I think I told the salesgirl the shirt was ‘itchy’, but what I meant was that my soul was itching.
In conclusion- no.