Accomplices

I met one of my closest friends in the world at college. We bonded over bad cafeteria food one morning in the second semester of our freshman year. After the first semester of our sophomore year, she transferred to a school closer to her home. We really only lived in close proximity to each other for five months, but it was all we needed to form a relationship that will last the rest of our lives.

Since college, I’ve moved to the west coast, and she’s moved to the east coast. As anyone in a long-distance relationship knows, they can be hard to maintain. But Nikki and I have made an effort to talk on the phone often and, more importantly, get together. I visited her in San Diego and Miami, places she temporarily called home. I attended her Florida Keys wedding, and she attended my Hawaiian wedding. We’ve taken girls’ weekends to Nantucket and Boca Raton. Last year, after she gave birth to her daughter, I visited her Connecticut home, and this year she visited my Colorado home.

The time we spend together is wonderful, and it’s also expensive. Nikki and I both love to shop. Worse, we are a shopping team made in heaven. I love bright reds and pinks. Hats. Shoes. Jackets. Handbags. I love high-heels. Floral prints. Glitter. Nikki loves deep, vibrant greens, blues, and purples. Swimwear. Tank tops. Sandals. Flowing blouses. Abstract prints. Deep necklines.

We have similar taste, but we don’t have identical taste. Our styles complement each other well, and we are able to lend a discerning eye to the clothes the other picks out. The things we choose together are almost always things we wouldn’t choose apart. But they often end up being the things we wear most in our wardrobes.

On our latest shopping trip, Nikki tried on a gray floppy hat. She immediately dismissed it. I never wear hats, she told me. I insisted she put it back on, and then I insisted it looked so good on her that she had to buy it. She has since texted me that she loves the hat.

Later, I tried on a black, sequined vest. I told Nikki I would never have anywhere to wear it, but she demanded I buy it anyway. I did, and since then I’ve worn it about once a week.

A black, sequined vest it a little bit out of my comfort zone. Although I love sparkly clothes, I think they belong in evening wear. The first time I wore the vest was with a pink, long-sleeved Juicy Couture tee. I wore it to an evening event, and I blended in just fine. The second time I wore the vest was during the day. I wore it over a pink Barbie t-shirt. I wore it to the coffee shop, and I didn’t notice any strange looks. Maybe my sparkly vest isn’t as out there as I initially thought. Even if it is, I love it, and I’m thankful Nikki talked me into getting it.

I’m writing this not to regale you with stories of my shopping purchases, but to tell you that a good shopping partner is invaluable. If you don’t have someone with whom to shop, try to find a friend who will be honest with you and find things that fit both your style and your body type. A good shopping partner knows what you like and don’t like. She knows what fits your body type. She will suggest pieces that you may not see yourself in, and she will insist you buy things that you may not initially feel comfortable with (I’m not suggesting she will put you in a low-cut top you will never feel comfortable wearing; I’m suggesting she will put you in a red top when all you wear are black and white). She will steer you away from pieces you already own (you already have eight twinsets; you don’t need another). She will discourage you from pieces that aren’t flattering (I’m sensing you don’t want to look like a thirty year-old who hasn’t yet realized she’s not sixteen; let’s put back the midriff-baring tank top). Most of all, she will make you feel good about yourself and what you buy. And if you’ve found the right person, that feeling will last long after you two part ways. You’ll feel good about yourself and your wardrobe every time you put on a piece you bought together.