I did something today I haven’t done in my adult life: went shopping with friends. And they had no idea what a big deal that was.
Those who know me well (the Mimi, mi espouso, the Myrtles) know that shopping is torture for all involved. My mother is saintly(-ish). She usually takes me shopping for my birthday and buys anything and everything that fits. She learned a very long time ago to shove me into a dressing room and bring anything in the store that remotely resembles my size. Sometimes we make it out of the store a couple of tops and, maybe, just maybe, a pair of pants. There is usually frustration, yelling, and maybe a few tears involved. (For some reason, the sales clerks think we are hilarious.)
We are talking about a pseudo-phobia here. My shopping experiences are akin to the scene in Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts goes into a store and the clerk says, “I don’t think we have your size.” (or something to that effect, don’t quote me on quotes, but you get the idea) Don’t even ask about online shopping. (Really? So not happening in my lifetime.)
The curious-minded might ask why? Why indeed. Why can I not walk into a store, find a pair of jeans, pay for them, and walk out? Because I only look normal.
You heard me.
I am tall. Not overly tall (IMHO), but enough for people to notice. No one believes me when I tell them my height. Arguments ensue when I say I’m anywhere between 5’10-6′ (I do not claim 6′, in spite of my mother’s insistence). Not that it matters…except when buying pants (and shirts and anything else). The average inseam for women’s pants runs up to about 30″. I can get by with 33″ but preferably I look for longer. Do they measure women’s pant length by inseam?
Why no. No, they don’t. We lucky women get to guess if we are petite, regular, or tall/long. Long usually works. (I say usually because the past few years have seen fashion designers make pants to include a heel, which I don’t need.) Regular length might work if I add a ruffle.
Unfortunately, the powers that design clothing think tall/long equals toothpick. I am NOT a toothpick. ‘Nuf said.
Whether it be shirts (short-waisted, narrow-shouldered, let’s not discuss the girls), pants (see above), or shoes (did I mention my left foot is larger than my right)…anyway, I do not have a size. In all my years of shopping (aka torture), I have found I have many sizes for each body part. I have come to a conclusion–one size fits none.
So…back to my morning excursion. Here I am, shoe-shopping, with two friends who are smart, savvy, and more fashionably aware than me. I watch them try on some adorable, and slightly wild, shoes while wandering around, hunting for my usual fare (comfortable, multi-purpose, but with style/interest. Cheap is good, too.)
Imagine my surprise to find a pair of brown ankle boots with embroidered red flowers. They fit. They are comfortable. They were on clearance. I had a coupon. My friends said to get them.
So I did.
I’m on a roll. I might go shopping again.
Oh Tiffany! This is both tragic and hilariously us! Glad I discovered your blog!
LikeLiked by 1 person