Commentary: Shopping — and bonding — through the ages

How I used to love to shop! As a young girl, it was a thrill to get a new dress for a special occasion, to describe it to my friends, to wear it for the first time.

Later, I bought clothes with my babysitting money. My first marriage was focused on the expenses of two small boys.

When my husband left, I had one dress to wear job-hunting. But working, it became a pleasure again to have money to spend on clothes.

And then came Lee, and five new children, and still money enough to shop for clothes for myself. But more fun was shopping for the kids. Six of our kids — boys and girls alike — loved to shop.

But not Cheryl. She would stand in the dressing room, and her sister and I would run clothes in for her to try on before she cried, “Enough!”

Too soon kids grow up and migrate and have families of their own.

Buying baby clothes does nothing for me. Whether as grandma to 12 or Mitzie to six great-grands, I had no interest in tiny clothes.

But, ah, I could hardly wait for our first granddaughters to turn 7, the magic age that means they are old enough to take shopping!

The fun fest began with Debbyie and Wendy. Every summer the sisters would come to visit, and we would shop till we dropped. Literally.

Jan, our daughter, called one evening, and Lee answered.

“Are the girls back yet?” she asked.

“Are the stores still open?” Lee replied.

“It’s only 8, Dad,” Jan said.

“Well, if the stores haven’t closed yet, they aren’t home,” Lee said.

Debbyie and Wendy were on a budget, but still, we took our time, loving every minute. The girls would pick things out and try them on, and I would do the unzipping and zipping and re-unzipping and hang up the rejects.

Years passed, and other granddaughters reached the age of reason. If they lived close, or could come visit in the summer, we shopped.

Of Cheryl’s daughters, Kelly is like me — loving our outings together. Kacie is like Cheryl. Kendal rarely ever got here from New York, but when she did, we could cram quite a lot of shopping into one day.

Sally came from Montana every summer. She was being raised by our son and didn’t get much wardrobe-fussing.

Watching her tastes change was especially sweet. Frilly girl clothes. High school debate team clothes. Date dresses. I cried when I took Sally shopping just before she left for law school.

“This is probably the last time we’ll go shopping together,” I said.

“Oh, grandma,” she said, “I promise I will come visit, all my life, and we can go shopping.”

A suit for court last year. A New Year’s Eve dress a few years before. It’s not the same.

I took only one grandson shopping as a youth. Jan sent us with a list for Kevin’s elementary school graduation.

“Your mother says you need black pants, a white shirt, a tie and a pair of shoes,” I said.

“Great,” Kevin said. “Let’s get to it!”

“OK. Here are the neckties,” I said. “What color do you like?”

“I’ll take this one,” he said, picking up the nearest.

“Kevin, that’s the first one you saw!”

“It’s fine. I like it.”

“But ... “ I waved my arm toward three tables of ties in myriad colors and patterns.

Nope. The first one, burgundy. A reasonable choice.

He also chose the only size 12 shoes, pulled the white shirt on over his T-shirt to see if the sleeves were long enough, and tried on only one style of black pants.

We were finished in 20 minutes. That’s not shopping! That’s buying. He got that gene from Lee.

Now I have great-granddaughters. I take one girl every other summer.

Lexi and I just had our third trip, the absolutely most fun ever! But so was taking her cousin Kaitlyn, who just turned 7 and had been talking about our shopping trip for a full year. And last year the most fun ever was taking Keira for her second trip.

Watching Lexi’s tastes change from choosing everything with glitter when she was 7 — including a pair of blue-sequin-covered high-top tennis shoes — to “Oh, no! Not that! Nothing with glitter, Mitzie!” — was so delightful.

Helping them pick out back-to-school clothes is better than shopping for myself ever was.

But it’s odd. I can afford to buy anything I like (within reason), but if everything were free, and I had a shopping cart, I couldn’t fill it. I don’t much like the clothes that I see.

Shopping for my girls, that’s my annual summertime thrill.

LIZ SWIERTZ NEWMAN lives in Corona del Mar.