velvet racism
Dec. 18th, 2009 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
novapsycheI had an appointment this morning. I hadn't been able to do laundry all week, so I was forced to wear interview clothes, which is not entirely inappropriate. I chose a royal blue velveteen suit that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
netmouse had given me this fall, accented with a variegated blue bracelet she'd also given me this past winter; after fretting, I decided to put on my knee-high black leather boots. Several people complimented me on how nice I looked this morning, including one of the bus drivers as I waited for my line. The one thing that displeased me was that I couldn't find a pair of earrings in time that would have completed the look.
Appointment over, I headed over to Meijer to grab lunch components as well as items for future projects. I prize my boots, but I need to tangibly value them, too, so I bought bootblack (a word I love, tangentially). To add to that, I needed to get better insoles for the damned things, as my feet were starting to ache (despite the ball-of-foot gels I'd bought months before). More Lamasil while I was there (as I've run out of the previous 30 g[!] tube). Food and contest-entry materials would be snagged before I left.
My right boot had suffered a loss of part of its heel (its cap?) over a year ago, so I thought I'd stroll through the shoe section. While there, I saw these awesome winter boots, black patent leather, in my size (!) and marked 1/3 off (not quite my style but cute nonetheless). As I tried them on, the shoe clerk wandered by, smiled and asked if I was finding everything I was looking for. I thanked him for asking, then inquired about the object of my quest. Sadly, Meijer stopped carrying heel caps for boots about two years ago, he informed me, and concurred with my suggestion that I might need to take my footwear to a cobbler. After trying on the shiny new pair (which unfortunately pinched the side of my right foot), I put the box back on the shelf. The clerk had come back and forth once after our initial conversation, but always engaged me verbally and kept a friendly note in his voice.
I remembered my earring desire, which I decided to indulge precisely because as a rule I don't buy jewelry anymore. (It's an expense I just can't afford on a regular basis.) I saw that several sections of the non-precious metal items were on sale, so that heartened me. I went to the clearance tower and tried to find a match for the bracelet.
I wish I had a photo of the bracelet so you could get a clearer understanding of how difficult it would be to match it. There are some solid hues and translucent ones; spheres as well as squares; lapis lazulis alongside sky blues and periwinkles; all interspersed with unique silver accents. The piece was designed by an independent artist, and Meijer was too commercial to have anything of that caliber in my price range. However, I did find something that was not only similar in variety of shape but also differences in color. The bonus was that it was a dangle earring.
Around the time I discovered this earring, the clerk for the department came from behind her counter to busy herself at the same kiosk where I stood, only directly opposite me so that the structure stood between us. I'd picked up the earrings and had them in my hand while I searched for an alternative, because while the colors were similar to the bracelet, the size of the earrings themselves slightly bothered me. I went from kiosk to kiosk; the woman followed in the same amount of space. She went away once, talking to one of her associates who was apparently behind me, then came back to the kiosk area.
I could not tell what exactly she could have been doing--the merchandise was satisfactorily tidy (for clearance-rack stuff). At one point, she came around my person, and I met her gaze and put a smile on my face as a greeting. She never spoke to me.
After another round of this, she walked out of the section proper to the greeting card area. By this time, I had found another pair similar in shape but smaller; also, they were more gray than blue. Had the woman been there, I would have interacted with her more directly at this point, asking her to direct me to a mirror (as there were none around the faux jewelry section). As that was not an option, I went to the counter and discovered one myself. Deciding upon the off-hue but more attractive pair, I returned the other earrings back to the kiosk. By that time, she was back nearby.
I wheeled my basket over to the counter and looked at the display. She returned to the display area but stood away, behind a counter where she was marking inventory or something. I waited for about a full minute before she looked my way and finally inquired whether I needed some help. I said, "Yes, I would." She again had me wait while she wrote something else down, then approached the display with the speed of a government worker. I told her I was looking for cufflinks (unbeknownst to her, the dress shirt I wore was rolled up due to a lack of such and hidden beneath my jacket). "Sorry," she said, "we don't carry those." Didn't inform me as to where I might shop to find some. By that time, I didn't feel like asking her.
Does this strike the average American as profiling? Probably not. But something similar has happened to me so many times over the course of my life that I know it when it occurs.
netmouse had given me this fall, accented with a variegated blue bracelet she'd also given me this past winter; after fretting, I decided to put on my knee-high black leather boots. Several people complimented me on how nice I looked this morning, including one of the bus drivers as I waited for my line. The one thing that displeased me was that I couldn't find a pair of earrings in time that would have completed the look.Appointment over, I headed over to Meijer to grab lunch components as well as items for future projects. I prize my boots, but I need to tangibly value them, too, so I bought bootblack (a word I love, tangentially). To add to that, I needed to get better insoles for the damned things, as my feet were starting to ache (despite the ball-of-foot gels I'd bought months before). More Lamasil while I was there (as I've run out of the previous 30 g[!] tube). Food and contest-entry materials would be snagged before I left.
My right boot had suffered a loss of part of its heel (its cap?) over a year ago, so I thought I'd stroll through the shoe section. While there, I saw these awesome winter boots, black patent leather, in my size (!) and marked 1/3 off (not quite my style but cute nonetheless). As I tried them on, the shoe clerk wandered by, smiled and asked if I was finding everything I was looking for. I thanked him for asking, then inquired about the object of my quest. Sadly, Meijer stopped carrying heel caps for boots about two years ago, he informed me, and concurred with my suggestion that I might need to take my footwear to a cobbler. After trying on the shiny new pair (which unfortunately pinched the side of my right foot), I put the box back on the shelf. The clerk had come back and forth once after our initial conversation, but always engaged me verbally and kept a friendly note in his voice.
I remembered my earring desire, which I decided to indulge precisely because as a rule I don't buy jewelry anymore. (It's an expense I just can't afford on a regular basis.) I saw that several sections of the non-precious metal items were on sale, so that heartened me. I went to the clearance tower and tried to find a match for the bracelet.
I wish I had a photo of the bracelet so you could get a clearer understanding of how difficult it would be to match it. There are some solid hues and translucent ones; spheres as well as squares; lapis lazulis alongside sky blues and periwinkles; all interspersed with unique silver accents. The piece was designed by an independent artist, and Meijer was too commercial to have anything of that caliber in my price range. However, I did find something that was not only similar in variety of shape but also differences in color. The bonus was that it was a dangle earring.
Around the time I discovered this earring, the clerk for the department came from behind her counter to busy herself at the same kiosk where I stood, only directly opposite me so that the structure stood between us. I'd picked up the earrings and had them in my hand while I searched for an alternative, because while the colors were similar to the bracelet, the size of the earrings themselves slightly bothered me. I went from kiosk to kiosk; the woman followed in the same amount of space. She went away once, talking to one of her associates who was apparently behind me, then came back to the kiosk area.
I could not tell what exactly she could have been doing--the merchandise was satisfactorily tidy (for clearance-rack stuff). At one point, she came around my person, and I met her gaze and put a smile on my face as a greeting. She never spoke to me.
After another round of this, she walked out of the section proper to the greeting card area. By this time, I had found another pair similar in shape but smaller; also, they were more gray than blue. Had the woman been there, I would have interacted with her more directly at this point, asking her to direct me to a mirror (as there were none around the faux jewelry section). As that was not an option, I went to the counter and discovered one myself. Deciding upon the off-hue but more attractive pair, I returned the other earrings back to the kiosk. By that time, she was back nearby.
I wheeled my basket over to the counter and looked at the display. She returned to the display area but stood away, behind a counter where she was marking inventory or something. I waited for about a full minute before she looked my way and finally inquired whether I needed some help. I said, "Yes, I would." She again had me wait while she wrote something else down, then approached the display with the speed of a government worker. I told her I was looking for cufflinks (unbeknownst to her, the dress shirt I wore was rolled up due to a lack of such and hidden beneath my jacket). "Sorry," she said, "we don't carry those." Didn't inform me as to where I might shop to find some. By that time, I didn't feel like asking her.
Does this strike the average American as profiling? Probably not. But something similar has happened to me so many times over the course of my life that I know it when it occurs.