Confessions of a Shopaphobic

I've never liked shopping - it combines two of my least favorite things - crowds, and being indoors.
Both of these aspects are magnified in one of the world's most famous shopping districts - Downtown Milan.
Having before mentioned that I neglected to pack the necessary clothes for Milan's arctic winter, it was time to correct this rather egregious error - and go shopping. I hopped a train for Milan, trying not to contemplate the dreaded task ahead. After arriving in Centro, and meeting up with a friend to enjoy a panzerotti ( a sort of hybrid between pizza and a doughnut) we set off to tackle the the store-lined streets of Milan. The majority of stores in Milan boast an Abercrombie-esque sound system, bass turned up loud enough to shake the building - blasting club remixes that reverberate in your rib cage.  This unpleasantry is helped little by the fact that I was buffeted back and forth by a sea of anxious shoppers, pressing to get that last Christmas present.
And then theres the part I really dislike about shopping - the buying. I can never decide what to buy. Yes, I needed warmer clothes but would I wear them again in warm Arkansas? Was 30 euros reasonable for a jacket? How many dollars is that anyway? Is it worth it? Should I wait for something better? What if there isnt something better and I end up freezing? Who even shops in Milan anyway?
And then my palms start to sweat, a headache comes on, and I completely use interest in the task at hand; lapsing into a grumpy stupor incompatible with any kind of shopping. This mood is not improved by the exceedingly pricey wares of the Milan fashion district - whose streets are dotted with names like Prada and Gucci.
Oh, Milan. Fashion capital of the world.