Went Christmas shopping with my mom today, because I desperately needed jeans, and I’m impossible to fit. It’s so much fun shopping for pants when your wasit is a size 5 and your ass is a size 10. (you think I’m kidding…)
And for all of you who have this image of me as small and tiny…I got stuck in a shirt today. Stuck. Not “oh, I’ll wiggle around for a while and it’ll come off” stuck; I actually needed a second person (thank you, Mom!!) to extract me from this thing. (This particular fabric had no give in any direction.) I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been alone – it was seriously like wearing a hungry squid.
But I now own more than one pair of jeans (I’m up to two, oooh!), and lots of other spiffy clothes I can’t wait to show off in London. (Should you worry for the fullness of my suitcase, every item I bought was strategically picked to match at least two other items. They were also all on sale. I don’t like to shop often, but I when I do, I do it well, for I have been gifted with the gene of Bargain Hunting.) And, because she was buying, and because neither of us will ever find turquoise strappy heels for under $20 again in life, my mom talked me into said shoes because they matched a turquoise satin top I’d picked out. (and, as I discovered later, and old prom/recital dress). At some point in the past three years, I have developed a fashion sense.
…..aaand that was quite possibly the most stereotypically girly thing I’ve ever ever written. Wow. I think I shall go…burp or something.