I went shopping the other day. If you’re like me, you might need a little refresher course. I mean Shopping. In a store. As in, I was trying to find a few articles of clothing. For me. Not for my husband. Not for the kids. Not for the baby. For me. Every once in a while I’ll pick something up online, but I can’t remember the last time I actually went shopping for myself in a store.
And do you know what I walked away with? I walked away with nothing but this one burning question: WHY DO I TORTURE MYSELF?
OK, first of all, what is up with my body? That’s what I wanna know. How is it possible that I have increased by 2 sizes? I just had a baby, true, but I’m not talking about the nearly 40 pounds (yes four. zero.) I gained during pregnancy. No, I’m talking about the literal 2 extra inches in hip bone circumference.
The medical establishment would have us believe those labor pains are our bodies pushing that baby out. I say no. That’s just a ploy to make us feel empowered while giving birth…and to make us do it again. Actually, the pain we feel is not the baby coming down the birth canal but our bones being cranked into a new (and wider) position. See, if they told us the truth (i.e. that you will go up at least one dress size for every kid you birth), I suspect we would see a steady population decline as women everywhere would just say no. But I digress.
So anyway, shopping. I go to the store and head straight for the, what else, but the clearance rack. I’m looking through the clothes and find a skirt that seems cute. I look at the tag. Wow! What a steal. Wonder if it’ll fit. I doubt it. But I’ll give it a whirl.
Then suddenly, I’m overcome by panic. I start pondering the price of the skirt and I wonder why it’s so cheap. Is it on clearance because it is so ghastly that no one who’s anyone would wear it? Is it so 5 seasons ago? If I wear this skirt, will other women look at me with pity just as I look at those poor souls who still wear banana clips in their hair?
The truth is, I have no clue what I’m doing. But I’m desperate for some clothes…at least that’s what my mom told me the last time she came to visit and you know if your mom has to tell you that your things are looking “a little ratty” that it must be pretty bad and my mom is definitely not the type who would normally make a comment like that except to be helpful and supportive and it was so obvious she was doing it out of love because along with her comment came the promise to send over a few gift cards to help with the problem.
So now, as I’m pulling things off the rack, I’m extremely self-conscious. I’m thinking, “What if people see me with something in my hand to try on and it’s really hideous? What will they think?”
So here’s what I do: I find a basic piece of clothing, a pair of black pants actually, because black pants are always in style, right? and I put those on the outside of the stack of clothes I’m going to try on because those are the most visible and then if anyone looks at the clothes in my hand to try on, they’ll just see the black pants and maybe they won’t see the rest of the stuff I’ve chosen just in case any of it is really horrid.
You think I’m lying, but I kid you not. I really do this.
And then I start roaming the aisles of the store and I find women who appear to be about my age (or younger, but not too much younger because the real young ones are always about a size negative 3 and I just don’t get that) and I check out what they’re wearing. At this point I just need some ideas.
So I’m finally ready to try all these things on that I’ve so painstakingly gathered but when I get to the fitting room, I’m informed that the dressing rooms are closed—they close 30 minutes before the store closes (and the store is closing in 5 minutes) so now I’m just feeling plain dumb. But they’ll be open again tomorrow morning at 9 or 10 or whatever, but that doesn’t help me because the 45 minutes I managed to find between feedings, bedtimes and meals to make it to the store this day was a complete fluke and will probably not happen again for another 3 years. Second, I am obviously a total shopping idiot and why would I want to return to the store a second day in a row to confirm that fact?
No, I think I’ll stick to shopping online. It’s so much nicer to be humiliated and confused in the privacy of my own home.

