Saturn returned to bite me in the ass.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Plus a two dress, one sweater, one tights Modcloth order. SHH.
NOW I’M DONE.
So I was just in the bathroom putting together a few thoughts, as I am wont to do, and I realized some interesting facts about my outfit today:
1. My dress, from Banana Republic, is a size Small.
2. The GapBody fabric bra top thing I have on over my bra, so as not to rock too much workday cleavage without having to wear a full tank top (yes, I am a genius), is a size Extra Large. (And believe you me, I have some tatas, but they’re only marginally above-average in size. Let’s put it this way: I can buy bras at GapBody, which only runs to a 38D or so.)
3. The underwear I have on, from Victoria’s Secret, is a size Large. I know for a fact that I have Small, Medium and Large drawers from VS (in my drawers).
Similarly, I recently bought a pair of Size 8 jeans and a pair of Size 12 jeans—from the same store during the same shopping trip.
In other words, nothing from anywhere makes any sense. Being a lady is filled with stupid shit like this. I am a size me. This is not a statement of light chub-acceptance or cultural defiance or anything like that. It’s just a fact. This is what size I am, and the fact that the country’s major retailers have no clear system to help me put well-fitted clothes on my person, that I am wearing a small and an XL at the same time, is just one of those moronic things I (and probably also you) have to deal with so I don’t go to work naked.
I cannot deal with that piece of crap thing from F21.
So I have put on the purple ruffly sweatercoat that makes me look and feel like Prince. It is a little weird. Meg is going to mock me mercilessly, but y’all, I just need a break from pants, and tights are so TIGHT.
The difficulty here is that I do not own leggings-appropriate sweaters or dresses. I’m just not a tunic-wearer. All of my dresses are Actual Dress Length (so closer to my knees than my junk) and all of my sweaters are Actual Sweater Length (so closer to my hip than my junk).
So I have on this preposterous short “dress” from Forever21 over my leggings, because my butt needs coverage, and pants are just too much to think about this morning. Now if only I could avoid SHOES.
That is all.
