Why are clothes so mean? Why are they all designed for Twiggy? Aren't the 60's supposed to be over already? Even when I was young and thin, this was a problem, because I always had a big butt. Even when it wasn't that big, it was always bigger than the rest of me. The result of this is that I always felt too big, even when I wasn't.
I long for clothing of another culture, like India or Africa or.....well what do they wear in the middle east, besides belly dancing costumes and burkas? At least all these places accomodate women's natural curvature. Beautiful colorful flowing silk saris. Just think of all those photographs in National Geographic that nobody wanted to throw away. An unexpected result of their beautifully dyed fabric, captured by lucky photographers in the right light, was the cliche of American hoarding, the garage full of National Geographics. And few things feel sexier than wearing a belly dancing outfit. Just try it!
Back in the colonial days of North America, they had a better system. (Not that all of it was great at that time, for example, corsets certainly sucked big time.) You had a big flowing sheath thingie underneath, like a white sack sort of fabric, and then over it you wore a tie thingie that went around your waist, but you could make it tighter or looser depending on how bloated you were. How practical and comfy! The most widely known illustration of this that I can think of is the dancing chick in the music video for the song "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. She is certainly insane but it's not because her clothing bugs her.
Anyway. Back to my original point. What was it? Oh yeah, so nothing fits and I get into a rageful depression when I go shopping, angry at the designers, at the mirrors, at thin people, and at the whole shopping process. But I have to wear something. I'm a mom, and I don't want to look like a slob with stained clothes....."Oh, it's her....the slob mom!"
Sometimes I just come home with nothing. "I am anti materialist!" I say to myself. But over the past week, I've had some sort of strange shopping reaction of the opposite sort. I'm buying everything. Because SOME clothes are sort of vaguely fitting, but then I find some other ones that might vaguely fit in a slightly more flattering way but just barely, and most clothes fit so horribly that if I find something that almost fits, I had better buy it because nothing will ever fit again.
The shopping bags are starting to line up. 1/4 of the bedroom is full of these bags, and I'm afraid to take any tags off! I have spent at least over $1000, which I cannot do at all. Every night and every morning I stare at the growing pile. It scares me, but oddly I find it satisfying in a way. Because even though most of the clothing is only visiting, soon they will be going back to the store, they are evidence that sometimes, some way, somehow, somthing fits.
I long for clothing of another culture, like India or Africa or.....well what do they wear in the middle east, besides belly dancing costumes and burkas? At least all these places accomodate women's natural curvature. Beautiful colorful flowing silk saris. Just think of all those photographs in National Geographic that nobody wanted to throw away. An unexpected result of their beautifully dyed fabric, captured by lucky photographers in the right light, was the cliche of American hoarding, the garage full of National Geographics. And few things feel sexier than wearing a belly dancing outfit. Just try it!
Back in the colonial days of North America, they had a better system. (Not that all of it was great at that time, for example, corsets certainly sucked big time.) You had a big flowing sheath thingie underneath, like a white sack sort of fabric, and then over it you wore a tie thingie that went around your waist, but you could make it tighter or looser depending on how bloated you were. How practical and comfy! The most widely known illustration of this that I can think of is the dancing chick in the music video for the song "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. She is certainly insane but it's not because her clothing bugs her.
Anyway. Back to my original point. What was it? Oh yeah, so nothing fits and I get into a rageful depression when I go shopping, angry at the designers, at the mirrors, at thin people, and at the whole shopping process. But I have to wear something. I'm a mom, and I don't want to look like a slob with stained clothes....."Oh, it's her....the slob mom!"
Sometimes I just come home with nothing. "I am anti materialist!" I say to myself. But over the past week, I've had some sort of strange shopping reaction of the opposite sort. I'm buying everything. Because SOME clothes are sort of vaguely fitting, but then I find some other ones that might vaguely fit in a slightly more flattering way but just barely, and most clothes fit so horribly that if I find something that almost fits, I had better buy it because nothing will ever fit again.
The shopping bags are starting to line up. 1/4 of the bedroom is full of these bags, and I'm afraid to take any tags off! I have spent at least over $1000, which I cannot do at all. Every night and every morning I stare at the growing pile. It scares me, but oddly I find it satisfying in a way. Because even though most of the clothing is only visiting, soon they will be going back to the store, they are evidence that sometimes, some way, somehow, somthing fits.
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