Oxford St Selfridges-not snow

This looks like snow but it's actually the large white lit Christmas balls strung across the street.  I had not been to Oxford St before I went that day and the profusion of decorations was an exciting surprise.  Unfortunately, I had not taken care in dressing for the occasion except to wear sandals I thought I could easily slip off to try on boots.  I wore some jeans too long for the sandals and a military styled jacket.  Getting there was an exploration.  I was a bit tense.  And I entered the door to find an elegant polished interior and a door man dressed in black with a bowler hat (The hat part--I think).  I had the beginnings of a sinking feeling that I was slightly (or more) outclassed in my shabby tourist garb.  And, to boot, I was perspiring as predicted as a side-effect of my meds.  It was chilly outside, mind you.

I braved the stroll across the floor to the escalators where I found a directory.  Up a couple of floors to the shoe dept. which is reputed to be the largest shoe department in the world.  Fortunately, I was to soon realize, I happened on the lowest priced department first.  Still, pricey.  I had done my online homework and these prices were a little better than I'd hoped.  I asked for some advice from a young male clerk with a French accent and a sort of skirt type garb.  I made a choice of three styles and we estimated my UK size.  I sat down across from a full length mirror and fought my urge to run out of there.  I truly looked mismatched and out of season.  Humbling.  I toughed it out and took two pair home to try.  I was going to need some skinny jeans to go with the fashion.  

I determined from which entrance I'd come in and fled through the door carrying my big neon yellow Selfridges' bag.  Consulted my map and my navigation notes carefully.  I walked then took my bearings.  Wrong direction.  Back the way I came while glancing at the Macy's-like show windows and gawking at the lit-up sides of buildings.  Found the bus stop.  Cold.  At last the bus came and I piled on with the crowd.  Safely in my seat, I placed my big yellow bag in front of my knees, exhaled, and dropped into a reverie.  Sooner than I'd anticipated, we were in Camden Town, passing Whole Foods, and nearing Camden High Street.  For fear I might overshoot the best stop, I pressed the button, stepped over my seat mate, and jumped out the door to the street.  Relief.  Ambling home and thinking, "boots".  Jeez!!!  MY BOOTS!!!  ON THE BUS!!!  I ran waving madly towards the bus which was coming my way on the dark busy street.  I spotted my ex-seatmate walking down the bus aisle with a desperate look holding up my BIG NEON YELLOW bag.  She saw me and moved quickly to the driver.  THE BUS STOPPED!  I rushed through the opened door thanking the disgruntled driver profusely.  I met my seatmate and gushed thanks to her.  I rushed out the door onto the street.  Oh my.  How incredibly spacey and lucky was I?  Nice London people once again.  Thoughts jumbled I stumbled the many dark cold blocks home.  Safe.  Soon I would find The Gap and regain my self-respect with some skinny jeans.