Continued from here. Journals Of Ettorah; A Plus Size Chick – The Dread Of Shopping For Curves
“This life na empty pot of beans” – most people would say, leaving out the part of you having to fart uncontrollably because obviously we’ve all digested the beans in question. (Don’t ask me how this relates to my story, me sef I don’t know).
For a curvaceous woman like me, shopping is like trying to explain to SARS that your iPhone was purchased legally, simply put; “it’s an extreme sport” (especially if you’re shopping at any Lagos open market e.g. Yaba, Idumota, Balogun). I know you might suggest “shop online” but abeg I don’t want to start sewing long threads on twitter because I was sold rubbish or a wrong size.
Anyways, this fateful day I decided that my denim starvation was over (Aunty was in dire need of new jeans). Putting on my armor; a free gown, dada (dreadlocks) left unpacked so they know I’m mad, my tribal marks of feminism drawn on my face, I headed out to the famous Yaba market. Alighting beside the railway line at Yaba, a battalion of men approached me all at once, trying to sell me one thing or the other, and in all of this chaos I observed that none of them attempted to touch me like they’d normally do!
Bless those women who were involved in the “Market March” sometime ago; women who had protested the assaults and sexual harassment meted out on female shoppers by male traders who in a bid to advertise their wares end up committing conscious crimes.
Some don’t even have anything to sell, they just form a crowd around a shopper and touch her indecently! My skin crawls at the thought of it.
I sternly looked them in the eyes, using my hands as a shield, so they know not to come close to me.
“Na you be the first to come buy somtin?”
“See as she dey strong face”
“Trouble maker,” All these words hauled at me because I didn’t let them rub their dirty bodies on me or reward them with a smile.
Walking-on briskly, determined to get to my destination myself, a well-dressed young man holding out a book, approached me.
“I get fine fabrics for curtain”
Looking in his direction, determined to ward of another pest, I was greeted with a soft-spoken voice and neat appearance; my demeanor changed.
“Good afternoon Oga”
“Na jeans I wan buy,” I suddenly confessed.
“I get brother wey dey sell”
“I fit carry you go him shop?”
“Thank you,” I responded and followed him, almost obediently.
We navigated several blocks of shops, walked for what seemed like an eternity, but it later turned out to be worth it! These guys he took me to were courteous and patient all through my fittings. We gisted all through about men, relationships and settling down. I even got some good advice about the men in my life too (most of them have been cancelled off my list thanks to these men).
And so I bought 4 pairs of nice fitting denims, got their contact and left. What I thought would take a war to accomplish turned out to be peaceful and memorable.
If you want their contact to cop a pair or two, buzz me in my DM!
Continue reading here.
My name is Ettorah, a plus size chick living in Lagos, trying to get a 9-5 while pushing my side hustles; a perfume store, freelance content developer gigs, a lifestyle blog and anything legit I think will make me ego (cash). Welcome to my journals of surviving and thriving in Lasgidi.
Instagram – @ettorah