Well, this is not exactly a week, just a few hours. Is there anyone out there that can give me a good list, for someone who lives in a tropical climate, of the basic clothes a well-dressed person should own? We had to attend a funeral recently and it quickly became obvious that I have nothing in my wardrobe but casual (not just casual, but super casual – think overalls, old jeans, t-shirts) in my wardrobe. I went to the funeral wearing a safety pinned skirt (it was way big) and an ancient sweater and really sad shoes. I am trying to pick things up and do better. But, I am at a loss. I used to be the biggest clothes horse ever – then I had kids and THEN twenty years just slipped by. Now, I’m a slob. (I got this picture from Google, I don’t know who painted it. I LOVE this picture. Whoever created it is very talented, imo.)
My parents invited me and Mike and my brother out for dinner Saturday night. We’re getting together to celebrate my brother’s b-day (the 8th), my b-day(the 16th), my parents’ 49th anniversary (the 20th) and the fact that we can all get together and celebrate. This invitation involves me finding something better than my “good” overalls to wear.
I went to Kohl’s. It’s close. I hate the mall. I dunno, I like the idea of Kohl’s better than the store – especially for something dressier. I tried on a TON of dresses. I’m not especially huge, but those dresses did not tell the same story. It was almost as if they had been made to be unflattering on purpose. And, WHEN did my knees get so old?????? The whole thing was so disheartening.
So, what did I do? I found a cute pair of tankini bottoms and tried to match up a top. Nothing cheers a gal up like trying on a bathing suit, right? The bottoms were great – adorable, actually. The top???? I picked it because it had an actual bra in it. I’m not all that well endowed, but gravity has not been my friend. I tried to pull the top over my head and that’s where it all went horribly wrong. Maybe I read the size wrong? Maybe I missed a secret latch? I dunno. I was being strangled by a bathing suit top in the Kohl’s dressing room and no one knew where I was.
My arms were shrunk to puppet arms, my boobs were crushed by a mean underwire in exactly the wrong place. I stood there staring into the three-way mirror, my fin-like arms wobbling wondering what I was going to do. I could not yell for help. The horror. The shame. I looked at my purse, with my phone, and thought, if I call Mike, he will mock me until I’m dead. I kind of decided to just die there. Something popped. I was free. I checked the top of the bathing suit. I think I was just tangled up in the tags, everything seemed okay.
I gave up. My knees are old. I clearly do not deserve a new swim suit. I bought a pair of jeans, a cute jacket and a tank top. If there is a God, I will not have to shop for a very long time. I am really, really bad at it.