It's Saturday at last. I have nothing to do so I can finally do what I've been longing to do all week: enjoying my love of warm winter clothes. Since five days it's been freezing, and there's a thick layer of snow on the streets. I look forward to walking outside, dressed up in layers of clothing, and watching what other people are wearing and what's available in the shops. I know I'm a bit weird in that aspect, but I just can't help myself.
So I waste no time and start getting dressed. Underwear, shirt, trousers,... that's the boring part. It only really begins when I put on my sweatshirt: a nice grey sweatshirt with a cozy hood which I immediately put up and tie around my head. On my legs I put a pair of ski pants, white like the snow outside. Beautiful and warm. And Moonboots on my feet to top it off. They are shiny black, with white printing, and so large and thick and stiff they make walking a bit harder. But I don't mind, because they keep my feet hot no matter the conditions outside. Next I put on my black down jacket and tie the hood until it covers the sweatshirt hood. And then on top of that, my other down jacket, which is light blue and comes down almost to my knees. I tie this hood so tight only my eyes and a bit of my nose are showing, so that nobody can see the hoods I'm wearing underneath. I finish my outfit with two pairs of mittens: one in thick white wool, the next in black waterproof nylon but with a warm fleece lining. Ready to go!
I spend the whole morning walking around, observing the other people, and checking out the stores to see more winter clothes. I'm not intending to buy anything; I can't afford to buy stuff on a whim. But then I come across such a beautiful down jacket which tempts me very much. It's silver in colour, knee length, incredibly thick, and the material feels quite stiff to the touch. Best of all, the hood is extremely large. Fascinated, I take the jacket of its hanger and study it intently.
"Beautiful coat, isn't it?" a voice says beside me. I'm startled, I didn't see the shop assistant approach me, focussed on the jacket as I was. "Oh yes, definitely," I say truthfully, once I've recovered, "it looks wonderful." "Would you like to try it on?" the shop assistant asks with a friendly smile. I hesitate. I'm acutely aware of how I'm dressed. I've taken down my hoods inside, but they form a pile behind my head. The inner down jacket isn't visible to the casual observer, as it's hidden between the sweatshirt hood and the outer down jacket, but it does make my hood look overly large. I've stuffed both pairs of mittens in the pockets of my down jacket, but they stick out a bit (as my wallet and house keys are also in these pockets) and add to my bulky look. I wasn't planning to try anything on, as I don't want to reveal the fact that I'm wearing two thick down jackets.
On the other hand, I've just said that I like the jacket, and I can't really think of an excuse why I wouldn't try it on. And I really would like to wear it. It's the most attractive jacket I've ever held. The shop assistant probably noticed my doubt, and she gently takes the jacket, saying: "Here, let me hold this for you, so you can take your coat off." Now I can find no way out, so I unzip my light blue jacket and take it off.
"Oh, you are wearing two coats," the assistant exclaims, "that's quite smart actually, with the freezing cold outside. And when you came in, I saw you wearing the hoods all up. With the sweatshirt hood as well, that makes three hoods. I guess they kept you warm and snug, didn't they?" I blush, I wish she didn't talk about my clothes like that, although she says it all in a friendly way, not mocking. I do wish she didn't talk so loud, though. I try not to let my embarrassment show too much and say: "Yes, they did." Meanwhile I take off the black down jacket as well. The shop assistant takes both jackets and hangs them over the rack.
"Well if you like thick down jackets, you'll love this one," she says, while she holds it open for me. I obediently put my arms in and she wheels to the front and does the zip up for me. Before doing it all the way up, she takes my sweatshirt hood and pulls it over my head, then she does the same with the silver down hood. "If you're going to wear the hood, you should try the hood before you buy it. You wear your hoods tied, yes?" she asks. She has apparently seen me when I entered, so I am forced to mumble a "yes" to that question, but she doesn't really wait for that. She is already tying my sweatshirt hood snugly around my face, and then she does the same with the silver hood.
"Beautiful!" she says when she has finished. She turns me towards a mirror. "I bet this jacket can keep you as warm as the two you were wearing! Do you like it?" "Yes, I do," I say, because it's true. The down jacket is great, and I strongly consider buying it, even though it isn't cheap. The shop assistant starts undoing the hood strings again. "Now you should try it with the other coat underneath," she says. "If you're going to wear it on top of the other one, you need to know if it fits." In no time her quick hands have unzipped the jacket again and taken it off. Now she holds out my black down jacket for me. I can't really think of something to say, and I kind of want to try the silver jacket on top of my other one, so I let her put it on me. Immediately she puts the hood up, on top of my still tied sweatshirt hood, and ties this one as well, just like I had earlier.
Then she takes the silver jacket again. But before I can put my arm in, she has another idea. "Oh! Perhaps you should try three jackets! That way you'll be even warmer. It would be good to know if this coat fits over both your jackets!" And without asking she puts the silver one away again and holds out my light blue jacket instead. I am a bit hesitant: "I don't know... I've never worn three jackets. Won't that be too bulky?" "There's only one way to find out," she says, and now she pulls the sleeve over my arm. Soon I am in my second down jacket, and she ties my hood as tight as I had, so the hood underneath doesn't show. She sees the mittens sticking out of my pockets and takes them out. "Two pairs of mittens as well! You were well prepared for the cold. You should put them on as well, so you will be in your full outfit. With your Moonboots and ski pants as well, you are perfectly protected!" She helps me into both pairs of mittens and then turns to pick up the silver down jacket.
"Now for the big one," she says with enthusiasm. As my arms are stuffed into the sleeves of the silver jacket, I'm starting to wonder if this is a good idea. My arms are so bulky already I don't think they'll fit in. "This won't work," I say, but she ignores me and simply pulls harder. And slowly my arms slide through the sleeves. "Don't worry, I'll get you in it," she says. When my whole arm is in it, only the top of my mittened hand pokes out of the sleeve. She repeats this with my other arm. "There, that was easy, no? Now we can zip it up." She bends down to my knees and connects the zipper. "Hmm, your light blue jacket is slightly longer unfortunately, that doesn't look so nice. But I can stuff it under this one, I'll just need to tighten this a bit. Can you put your feet together?" I obey, putting my feet as close together as the Moonboots will allow. I feel how the drawstring at the bottom of the silver coat is tightened just above my knees. Then she zips it up further. And then everything goes fast: she zips up the jacket, puts the hood up and ties it shut almost completely. There's only a tiny gap in front of my eyes, a slit only a couple of centimeters wide and high.
"All done! Now what do you think?" I look at the mirror again. This time I just see a fat figure in a silver down jacket and blue Moonboots. The arms stand to the sides a bit, with just the top of the black nylon mittens showing at the end of the arms. But on top of the silver figure is an enormous head, like a silver, fluffy cannonball. In front is just a little dark opening, but nothing can be seen of the person inside. I try to say something but no sound comes out; the three collars are too tight over my mouth to allow speech, and the three down hoods muffle the little volume I can produce. "So would you like to buy it?" the shop assitant asks. But how can I reply? I can't speak and I can't even nod or shake my head, which is immobile under all those hoods!
"Come," she says. She takes me by the arm and walks me through the shop. What is her plan? I don't know, but there's nothing I can do about it. The drawstring around my knees restricts my steps so I shuffle along beside her. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of other customers staring at me with their mouths open. Soon I have no idea where I am, as my lack of vision has disoriented me. But suddenly I see the store entrance ahead of me.
"Here's my offer," she says. "You can try out the coat for a while. See, I have your wallet and keys here - they fell out of your jacket when I took the mittens out. But don't worry, I'll keep them safely with me. This way I can be sure that you'll return, since you need to pay for the jacket if you wish to keep it. So have a walk around, and decide whether you want to buy the jacket, then come back to me. All right?"
She takes a look at her watch. "It's five to twelve, my shift ends in five minutes," she says, "and I've taken a few hours off this afternoon so I won't be here at first. I'll be here from 4 till 6 though, so just come back during that time. Meanwhile, you can enjoy the coat. See you!"
And with that she's gone. I shuffle out onto the street, knowing that at least for the next four hours, I won't be able to escape my padded prison. And I can't help wondering: once I get back at 4 o'clock, will she let me out then?
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