Still Not That Easy

I hate clothes shopping it is something that I have always dreaded.  My mother and I would go out every weekend to look at clothes it was more an excuse to the leave the hot house and borrow air-conditioning.  My mother and I would make fun of the clothes being sold and wonder why fashion was repeating itself or going into far off lands.  Nothing I tried on ever seemed to fit me right my mom even made my clothes for awhile to solve the problem.  After my mom died I comforted myself with food, a lot of food.  I had already gained the dreaded Freshman 15 during my undergrad days I had gone from a 8 to a 10.  After mom died I found myself in the 12-14’s.  This made shopping for clothes even more difficult.

After breaking my leg my orthopaedist made it clear that the the less weight I carried the more likely my leg would last and he’s right.  During my pregnancy with Evelyn my leg hurt and being pregnant made pain options limited.  Since Evelyn was born I have made it a priority to get a much weight off and for the most part my leg is wonderful.  It still snaps, creaks and sticks out but the pain has diminished to the point where extra strength Tylenol and a bath are all that is needed (most weeks).  Since I have lost weight I thought it would be easy to find clothes but it’s not. I was in my late twenties when I finally figured out that I should be in the petites.  However, most shops only have petite junk on-line and you have to really put faith into the sizing guides that everything will be OK including the generous return policy.

Why have I given such a clumsy opening to this post? There is special place in Hell reserved for the makers of petite sections in shops.  Why must every shirt have dangle-ly crap sewn to the neckline?  Also why the explosion of nasty polyester print with ruffles?  Why can’t the clothes for the people over five foot four be minimized for the people under it?  Why are all the shorts and capris in shagging white?  One associate told me that I should try the Juniors department for jeans.  The selection while vast is not that flattering for a married 31 year old woman with greying hair and two kids.  Rhinestones, embroidered insects, rips and low rise below the equator are not for me.  Forget the DMV the department store is my idea of Hell.

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