Sometimes I Hate Being a Girl

It happened again today dangit. It happens every spring. I blame it on early-onset Alzheimer's. Sigh.

Every spring I get the notion that I would like to have some cute, breezy summertime clothes. I go out searching, purchase a few items, then never wear them. What I forget is that I don't have the confirmation to be considered "cute" and, therefore, "cute" clothes on the rack look like crap on me. I have linebacker shoulders, long monkey arms, and Dolly Parton breasticles.

The last time I looked good in the latest fashion was back in the '80s when manish suits with shoulder pads were all the rage. I looked great in those Joan Crawford / Mildred Pierce / Brooks Brothers suits.

But "cute" clothes with those little spaghetti strap numbers are a big no-no. I forget that every spring. Alzheimer's.

I went out today on my delusional annual search. You see, I'm SO tired of wearing mens T-shirts. I wanted something sleeveless in pink or floral or girly-girl. I wanted one of those empire waisted maternity top looking thingies. I wanted the breeze to blow up my shirt on hot, humid days. T-shirts are hot (but not in a sexy hot kinda way.)

I asked sister Nana to go along for moral support. We combed the racks for appropriate items and hit the dressing room with about 14 pieces. Arrrggghhh! It's tough to find shirts that will fit over the girls. I tried on one of those empire waist thingies I so dearly craved and ended up looking like a wet nurse to triplets. Uh, no. So much for that idea.

I remember now why I dress in men's clothing.

Crap.

Off to the men's department.

Found a cute striped T-shirt there. At least it will be a change from the solid colors I wear now. Alas, it is blue, AGAIN. Not much pink or floral stuff in the men's department.



Those are seersucker shorts underneath the T-shirt by the way. I did manage to find those in the girl's section of the store. And before anyone says anything, NO, I won't wear the two together.

To console my wounded clothing spirit I bought some nail polish for my toesies. At least my feet can look girly-girl in my new flip-flops. I bought the same pair of flops in hot pink too! Squeeee!



Oh wow, it looks like I have hair all over the top of my feet in this picture. I don't, I just need a tan.

Dangit.

Shopzilla Hits Pulaski County

I barely had time to set down my suitcase before I was whisked away to go clothes shopping with my sisters. The Shopping Sister (aka The Prissy Sister) met Nana and I at the store. I hadn't seen Pris in a long time so I was looking forward to a few sister squeals and a hug. No such luck. She walked in the door and immediately started looking through the racks. I was chopped liver as long as there was shopping to be done.

"Gee Pris, aren't you glad to see me???"

"Ya, whatever..., Hi."

Then to Nana, "Will this fit her?"

Yep, chopped liver, without enough sense to pick out my own clothes. I had become five years old again. I knew I would. Dang!

So I'm standing in this hoity-toity store in west Little Rock with a bunch of ladies of leisure from the McMansions of Chenal Valley eyeing me with suspicion. The salesladies were giving me the Big Frown too. I'm sure I was quite a sight standing there in my Haskell, Arkansas Cub Scout t-shirt I bought at Goodwill; raggedy blue jeans; dirty Wal-Mart tennis shoes; no makeup or jewelry; and hair stuck up in a clip. The other customers probably thought I was a homeless person in need of a good spraying with some disinfectant. I was a turd in a punchbowl.

My sisters dug through the endless racks of clothes, pulling out this and that for me to try on. I stood there like a post with my finger crooked for them to hang clothes on. The whole scenario reminded me of when I was in elementary school buying school clothes with my mother. I *hated* shopping for school clothes. She always bought cheap stuff from K-Mart that was itchy and scratchy. I never had a say in what got purchased. I was just stuck with it.

Lucky for me this trip was different. The sissies were picking out nice clothes, comfortable clothes, classy expensive clothes. They knew what would look good on me because the same stuff looks good on them. Plus, they have good taste. Momma didn't. They did let me have a say in the jewelry. They like fru-fru fussy necklaces and earrings. I like clean, simple lines in my hardware.

It was nice having two dedicated personal shopping assistants. They debated the pros and cons of each piece and rendered an opinion as to whether it was a Buy or No Buy. I didn't have to decide. That was nice. They put the right accessories with each outfit to make it sizzle. They even helped some of the other customers while they were waiting for me to change. They were doing such a good job they were mistaken for store employees not once, but twice. The saleslady tried to get them to fill out an application they were so good.

Two exhaustive hours later, I finally escaped the store with two jackets, four tops, a pair of pants, a belt, and three sets of jewelry. The sissies are practical girls, hooray! All the pieces mix and match so I can create lots of different-looking outfits from all that. The sissies are frugal shoppers too. Hooray! I got all that haul for just under $450. That's a steal of a deal from this particular store. When the salesladies saw the mound of clothes and jewelry I was going to buy, they lightened up a little. Grrrrr. There's a special place in Hell for snotty salesladies...maybe a Goodwill store with no commissions. Grrrrr.