I believe I mentioned yesterday that I was in a mall over the weekend. As much as I hate to spend money on clothes that will be too big in a couple of month’s time, my rapidly diminishing arse necessitates a few inexpensive purchases for the interim. It would not at all do if my pants slid off my bottom while I bent down to pick up a pencil in front of my boss.
So anyway, I amble into The Gap and head directly to the sale section of the store, hoping to find some random pieces that will stay securely attached to my body, without draining my wallet. Now, in the past, when I was wearing sweaters with labels that said Large or, horrors, Extra Large, it was standard practice that, upon finding a lovely garment, only labels that screamed Medium or Small or Put Me Down You Fat Cow would be available. I've accepted this. The more I weighed, the less selection the retailers would give me. Evil retailers.
So, it was with a certain amount of glee and exultation that I searched through the piles of marked down tailored shirts and fleecy sweaters.
"I'm a medium!" I thought to myself! "I'm allowed to shop here!" For a few brief moments, life was good. And then it got better because... Aha! A Ha HA Ha Ha HA! Something I like that will be my size! A lovely V-neck in a fabulous chartreuse that any girl with my colouring would long to have. Originally $60.00, marked down to the low, low price of $17.99! My eyes glistened with unshed tears of happiness as I started making my way through the stack.... Large, Large, Extra Large, Extra Large, Large, Extra Large and Large. Gah!
How can this be? Did they know I was coming, and do it on purpose? Do they not want my money?! Why? For the love of God, WHY?!
Gah. Evil retailers.
I've decided that it's not a matter of losing weight to find the clothes I want to wear. It's a matter of not being me!
Have a great day, all. But do no shopping, because I firmly believe you already look fabulous the way you are.
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