I don't know why this is a lesson I have had to learn over and over for years on end.
No pun. Ha.
I went to Target, lured by the back for a limited time! designer collaboration! dresses. I thought a nice spring dress would be a perfect little perk-me-up.
Not surprisingly, there were a lot of wee sizes and a lot of large sizes, and not so much in the in-between.
I tried on four dresses in something resembling my size, give or take a squeeze or two, just so I could have some idea of sizing in case I wanted to order them online. Because I do not know what to do with sizes 5, 7 and so on.
The odd numbers, they confuse me.
Except for multiplication - the odds were easier, and particularly the nines. But not sevens. What's that terrible drinking game where you count and have to say "beep" instead of seven or any number divisible by seven? I always sucked at it in high school.
Um, not that we played drinking games in high school, Betty.
But for clothing.
I tried on this leopard print dress - too short! And I am short! This was too bad, because it was actually my size. And cute.
I then wiggled into this lacey tiered color dress, not expecting to like it, and I really did. I mean, not in the size I tried, which fit, but more snugly that I personally would wear, but one larger I think would fit nicely.
I have a wedding to go to end of May, and I dunno, could this be a possibility? Or is it too young/lacey/something else for me?
Next I tried this very fun but alas too big multicolored strappy dress. It could be lovely for summer, but I think even in my size, it doesn't necessarily flatter me.
The one I was really interested in was this green and blue colorblock shift, and I did manage to squeeze into the itty bitty size...but it was not pretty. What I can't tell is if the size that fits my hips and butt will be huge on top, which happens to me a lot.
The oochy-scooching the dress over my hips and butt, however, is what led to the ass-toward-mirror scrutinization. And I don't care if it's not a word. It's close enough.
I don't shop as much as I used to, and so I forgot what a bad idea it is to turn one's scantily-clad posterior towards those goddamn dressing room mirrors.
And I can never resist. It's just like the clips. If I'm in a dressing room, even if I'm just trying on tops, I always take off my pants. Because when else can you get that accurate a look at your butt?
And it's always traumatic.
I never look in them and think, wow, my butt looks awesome!
No. It's always, holy crap, does my ass really look like that? And I bet if I jump up and down a little...fuck, it totally jiggles. What if I stand on one leg and shake the other one...ugh, even worse.
And I walk out with lowered self-esteem. And my too-tight dresses to hand back to the clerk.
The totally need magic mirrors that make your butt look higher and firmer and maybe even a little tan. Maybe ones that give you a compliment or two.
You'd look in the mirror and a voice would say, "Nice ass!"
Or would that be creepy? I think I could like it.
Happy weekend, all!