We ascended the escalator and arrived at the second floor. We stepped onto the landing and looked to the left, then to the right, and then behind us. Nothing but an ocean of women’s clothing as far as eye could see. We felt out of place and somewhat lost, not knowing which way to go. We weren’t even sure what we were looking for, so overwhelmed by the vast collection of fabrics, colors, and styles. It was odd that some of the mannequins were not even clothed, and we were unsure what that message was. Neither Virginia nor I would be considered shopaholics. We tend to identify more with a minimalist lifestyle than mass consumerism. We were definitely out of our comfort zone.

For this mission, we will be traveling to a land different than what we are used to. Instead of hanging around the house with family and keeping a yard, we will be engaged in public life, meeting people, mentoring students, and becoming a face for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We must conform to a new image as a disciple and missionary of the Savior. We are also going to a wetter climate than we are familiar with and engaging in work of a different nature. All of this requires us to retool and reequip our lives in a new manner.

Much of the advance information we’ve received from the mission and from the church is vague. We aren’t given a detailed packing list to follow, just general guidelines. We know there is only one day a week allocated for personal needs, i.e., grocery shopping, laundry, writing home, etc., so we know we need enough clothing to get through a week. We will be working in a major tourist attraction in Hawaii, and we are expected to look like we belong there. I’ve lived in Utah, on the Wasatch Front for most of my adult life, and I have built my wardrobe around the four seasons, the dry desert climate of the American Southwest, my life in the theatre, and our hobbies of camping and hiking. I am well outfitted with jeans and plaid flannel shirts. In the summer I wear shorts and a tee-shirt. None of this works with where we are going and what we will be doing in Hawaii.

For most of her life, Virginia has placed the needs of her children and husband before her own. She’s had what she’s needed, but not by any means a full wardrobe, and certainly not outfitted for the adventure that lies ahead. Lately, I’ve felt that her current collection of clothing represents a debt that is decades in the making, and the interest has now come due. I need to pay back on the many years of sacrifice she has made on behalf of the rest of the family. We spent the last two weeks heavily shopping, primarily for Virginia’s sake. I’ve learned this week that a woman’s wardrobe is more complicated than a man’s, at least more complicated than my own. While I can get by with a few pairs of pants and a half dozen Aloha shirts, Virginia needs more. She cares more for her appearance than I do. I don’t think I’m a slob, but I also don’t take the care Virginia does, or would like to. There is more to consider in in a woman’s wardrobe, things I never take into account. Buying a bra is perhaps the most difficult article of clothing in the whole arsenal.

I’ve been steadily working on my wardrobe since we received our calling (except for the month we were hung up in our lag error). These last two weeks have been exhausting. Some of the shopping has been online, and that is slightly easier, but we’ve also been forced out into the malls and shops across Utah Valley and even into downtown Salt Lake City. We’ve spent a small fortune, at least for us it has amounted to more money than we’ve ever invested in one shopping spree. But we are relieved that it is nearly finished. There are still two months before we leave our home, but there are other matters that require our attention. Having the “proper” clothing was one of the items we needed to check off on our to-do list. This has been a heavy burden weighing upon us, one that has needed our immediate attention. I am grateful it is mostly done, to leave it behind and move on to other pressing matters like holding new grandbabies and catching up in the yard.

We have prepared ourselves for the next two years, and we are hopeful that except for a small or rare occasion, we can stay out of the malls and shops in Hawaii and concentrate on the real reason we are at the Polynesian Cultural Center. There is nothing wrong with shopping, in and of itself. It simply isn’t an activity we have practiced regularly. The last thing I want is to show up at the Polynesian Cultural Center looking like a couple of backwoods hicks, or even worse, Utah desert rats. Now we just need to figure out how we are getting it to the mission field. Using Google Maps, I learned that it is 2,983 miles from Orem to Laie, in a straight line. Eventually, we’ll be visiting our local UPS store or FedEx carrier.