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Sunday, April 22, 2012

People Eating Jeans

I had a free evening after work on Friday because the kids went to party it up with the grandparents. Being the complete delusional idiot that I am, I decided to use a bit of this free time to take myself shopping. I was going out that evening (AGAIN) and was not finding anything that made me look 30 lbs lighter and tan in my closet.

  I hate when that happens.

I figured I would zip into the store, find the miracle working outfit on clearance, and off I would go to begin the at- home-surgery that it takes for me to go from pony tail mom in fat pants to actually looking like a give a damn. 

It seems that I forgot that I kind of hate shopping. Especially for myself. It is extremely overwhelming for me. So many choices and I have no freaking clue how to put an outfit together to be perfectly honest. 

I choose to go the mall that offers a couple trendier stores. Because apparently I felt like I could be trendy.  My fabulous attire at that moment in time was a work shirt that I shrunk in the dryer but stretched out and put on a tank top underneath to make it work and spandexy/polyester/fat pants that I bought when I was pregnant with Little Dude. I only wore the fat pants because I knew there would be leftover cake at work. Is that trendy?  

Walking into the store I felt like the fat/old/stained shirt wearing elephant in the room. I should add cheap to that list as well. I don't think I have ever bought a single item from the mysterious front part of the store. Where prices are high and mannequins are anorexic. Straight back to the clearance racks I went. 

Then, the search begins. Anxiety builds. I find something and then immediately picture the different scenarios that may happen while wearing this article of clothing. If I have to suck in, wear a strapless bra, or expose any part of my lower half while sitting it will not be a winner in my book. 

Am I the only person that can spot the sales person out of the corner of my eye and freak out because I know she's coming over to try and "help" me? Just leave me alone! I have enough to deal with right now in my overwhelmed brain without having to chit chat about the best deals and styles that just came in. Before the poor girl can get one word out I blurt out, "JUST LOOKING!" Cripes. 

I find a couple shirts that look like they may work finally. Then I look for pants. It takes me awhile to decipher the sizes. I stood at the rack looking like an idiot holding them up to me to see if I could stuff myself into them. I grabbed the pair that looked to be my size and off I went in the direction of tears and broken dreams. The dressing room.

Under blinding florescent interrogation lights I disrobe. I purposefully avert my eyes away from the incredibly white legged monstrosity that I am sure was staring back at me in the mirror. Try on the first shirt. Nope. No way. Second shirt is actually a winner. Feeling pretty good now, I tackle the jeans. As I slip my foot into the leg I realize I have made a tragic mistake. These are not normal jeans. These are those stupid ankle biting skinny jeans. I figure I am already half way into the process so I decide to finish the act of trying these damn things on. 

OH. MY. GAWD. It looked like the pants were eating me. But they couldn't finish me, so the rest of me was just blobbed out of the top of them. I laughed. HARD. 

I managed to peel the people eaters off of me and decided right then and there no more jeans. My fat pants never felt so good. 

 In the end I did actually make a purchase.  Instead of a new pair of jeans I bought a pair of earrings.

 Because my earlobes are totally in shape.  
 
 



 

2 comments:

  1. Love reading your posts, you are too funny!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Liz! I appreciate you reading my ramblings!

    I like reading your posts too :) Your babies are ADORABLE!!

    ReplyDelete