I like to check in with my ‘client’ via phone before playing Personal Shopper, as it gives me a chance to assess her relationship with clothes, shopping, et. al. It’s a highly technical process. Just kidding. I phoned my cousin Zoe, an NYU Undergrad so wise beyond her years that she’s only in class two days a week, and the call went something like this.

Me: So. What kind of stuff are we looking for tomorrow?
Zoe: (giggling) Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anything really.
Me: Well, what kind of stuff do you usually buy? Shirts, tights, shoes, lipstick, what’s your poison?
Zoe: (more giggling) Honestly? I don’t really shop that much. I don’t really like it.
Me: WHAT?! You don’t LIKE it?!
Zoe: (full-on laughter) I mean, that’s why I’m so excited to shop with you!
Me: Good. I’m glad we understand each other.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Zoe wasn’t taking me seriously. We met at Buffalo Exchange (East Village location, obvs) and got down to biznass. As Zoe leisurely browsed shirts, I powered through the jeans, blazers and dresses, periodically checking in with her to determine her likes and dislikes. A note on the fabulosity of Buff Ex’s staff: When my arms had nearly reached their holding capacity, one of the employees (a lovely, scruffy Aussie dude) asked, “Can I start you a fitting room?” That’s one of the things that sets this particular Buff Ex apart from other re-sale stores; trying on clothes is as easy and enjoyable as it would be in a high-end boutique. Word to THAT.

The last addition to the slightly ridiculous amount of items we accumulated was a label leather jacket (Yes, ‘label’ is the name of the brand. It’s like naming a restaurant fork, ’cause that’s never been done before.) At $85, it wasn’t cheap, but the cut was badass, and it was definitely REAL. I held it up to gauge the client’s reaction. It’s a little rockstar-y, but I’ll definitely try it! Goody.

All told, Zoe tried on thirty or so items. I got a little nervous when, fifteen items in, she was only psyched about one dress, but as we embarked on the second half of the fitting room process, success became apparent. The only real beotch of shopping re-sale is the size thing: All brands fit differently, and it’s not like you can go back and grab it in the next size up or down. Henceforth, the only real solution to this beotch is to Try. On. Everything. Even if you’re only kind-of interested in it. Clothing looks radically different on you than it does on the hanger and the more you try on, the more you find. That’s just statistics (I think). Anyhoo.

The leather jacket fit Zoe perfectly, but I wasn’t sure if she’d actually wear it. So I did something I do ONLY whilst playing Personal Shopper: I shut the eff up and didn’t tell her what to do. After we’d found another dress, a button-down oversized shirt (to be belted and worn with leggings, obvs) and a killer pair of electric blue American Apparel straight-leg jeans (which retail for like $80 – are they effing nuts? These were $12.50, NBD), Zoe put the jacket back on. She walked around in it. She looked like she wanted to dance in it.

Zoe: I’m really liking this.
Me: Look, it’s fab but for re-sale, it’s pricey. Don’t buy it if it’s not You.
Zoe: I don’t own anything like it, but I think it could be me.
Me: (biting my tongue biting my tongue biting my tongue)
Zoe: I want it. It’s awesome. And all my friends are buying fake versions of it at Urban and I don’t want to look like everyone else.
Me: Good, because it looks fabulous, I can tell you feel fabulous in it, it fits you perfectly and that shit would RETAIL for like $350 at LEAST.

All told: Two dresses, one shirt, one pair of jeans, a pair of tights and one REAL LEATHER JACKET for $181.50. As we exited the store, Zoe was utterly gleeful. Part of this was obvs because we found her awesome stuff; sure, we shopped, but we dished about family, boys, her NYU Radio gig, my blog, and why she should read Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus in the process. I really had fun. And I think she did too.