Shopping Trip

Snatching up my 10G phone

“with facial recognition,”

I took another full length selfie,

My one indulgence besides this phone.


I heard a voice whisper

Go downtown now.

Stop at the new mall and

buy an prettier phone case.




I went. Another whisper.Your phone is

a pretty pink. You should look pretty, too.

I treated myself, browsing a clothing store.

well outside my income.


The professional dresser stared.

“You’re the one. With that face, color and skin

tone.” I was told “You have a stylist waiting

for you at this salon. Then come back.”


The voice said, Do it. I went, returning with a pixie haircut.

The dresser handed me a wardrobe: black pants,

collared blouses, a few skirts. One scarf. One at a time,

I tried them on, unsure where this would end.


A facial was arranged. A tmakeup artist arrived.

I imagined beauty pageants as the black pumps

and jewelry were examined, approved,

then whisked away. Then I donned a bathrobe.


“Don’t look,” they commanded. I swayed,

overcome by the power of lipstick and

Chanel number 5. Hands slid over my skin,

dressing and perfecting me.


I was led to a room and told again, “Don’t look.”

I posed, eyes closed, for profile pictures, then

filmed as I turned slowly. I had no idea what I

Looked like or who I was.


Full-length, I finally saw myself. I was coarse,

a child of servants, a young daydreamer.

I was a woman in love, and a princess.

I was Audrey Hepburn.