Her response left me dumbstruck.

“If you walk out of the store and come back later, the price will not be $10 any more, it’ll be $15,” the salesgirl informed me in a snooty tone.

“Wow, really?! Then I’m NOT coming back,” said I, and strode out immediately.

(She spoke in Mandarin, and what I’ve just quoted was a rough translation to English. Apparently – according to her – $15 was the original price of the collar, while she decided to quote me $10 out of niceness … which everyone could see by now, had a huge caveat attached to it.)

I was experiencing a lot of indignation after that. Though I really wanted the collar, I hated her attitude so badly that I simply refused to give her any form of business (or commission, for that matter). She sure as heck didn’t deserve it.

Luck was on my side, though.

I chanced upon another store selling the same collars at $15. After a bit of haggling, I managed to bargain the price down to $10, while the salesgirl even offered 20% on all her apparel if I bought the collar (the last bit was on her own accord).

I ended up buying two collars. (But no apparel.)

Button-on collars in yellow and green.

I #win.

The salesgirl was also full of #win. She remained friendly throughout the entire transaction, even when I was showing signs of indecisiveness. No trace of snootiness anywhere. I like.

Salespeople out there, your attitude and sincerity matters. If you don’t have it, I’m going to your competitors.

Denim also has an inherent characteristic that I can relate to – how it’s tough and able to withstand even the roughest of terrains and yet still emerge strong. Sure, it undergoes loads of wear and tear. But that’s what gives it personality. Just like how battle scars say a lot about a person’s past history, and shape one’s character.

I bought the following denim vest online a couple of days ago.

Photos credit to Wonderstellar.

The parcel reached me today, and I tore it apart with glee.

But when I attempted to stick it in my wardrobe, I took in the view of all my other denim shirts (5 long sleeved and 2 sleeveless) hung side-by-side, along with my humongous stack of denim bottoms … and felt insanely guilty.

Oh well.

My last haircut was about a month ago – where I decided to retained my short (extremely layered), slightly tomboyish crop. It’s grown out quite a fair bit now and once again, I’m undecided.

Mum and I was at Parkway Parade this evening. While strolling along, I was eyeing my reflection in the glass door next to me – particularly my hair.

“Hmm, should I cut my hair again?” I wondered aloud.

Mum just stared at me – I knew very well how she felt about me having short hair in general, so I didn’t really need an answer.

We walked on.

And when we walked past the food counter at Yoshinoya (a Japanese rice set fast-food joint), one of the guys behind the counter – in a fit of over-enthusiasm (because the joint was empty at that moment), decided to yell out.

“Hello maam! Hello sir!”

I looked around. There was no one else in the vicinity except for my mum and me.

“Sir?! What the fuck?!” was my outburst, directed at no one in particular.

The fellow behind the counter at least had the grace to look sheepish. Mum on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing for quite a while.

As for the answer to the question, “should I cut my hair shorter?” Well, it’s quite obvious that I’ve gotten my answer. No.