October « 2008 « the painter's daughter

“It’s Times Like These…”

I have been fighting the flu or a cold or something for the last three days or so. I’ve been coughing my head off and just generally feeling lousy. In fact, I even took a day off of school — which rarely happens. I tend to save my very, very few absences (two per semester, which is about 16 weeks) for shopping and T.V. watching.

The night before last I didn’t sleep very well. I kept coughing and just couldn’t get “comfy”. At 2 or 3 in the morning, My husband got out of bed and came back with an ounce of red liquid in a little plastic shot glass.

Him: Babe, here. Take this

Me: What is that?

Him: I found some Nyquil and I want you to take some.

Me: Why?

Him: Because you’re coughing and you haven’t slept much and I know you don’t feel good.

Me: Thanks, honey. *gulp*

Now, I know this doesn’t sound like a big deal, but, I mean, it was the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. Even I was too tired/lazy to get out of bed to get my own medicine. And he got it for me. Even though he had to get up early. Even though he was sound asleep and feelin’ fine.

I’m gonna just go with my gut instinct which tells me he did this because he loves me and NOT because he was tired of me waking him up by hacking in his ear.

Gentlemen, in case you were wondering, it really is the little things that steal a woman’s heart.

“Dear Old Navy: Suck It”

I think I need to take this time to address a very important issue. No, not the election in two weeks — something much, much more important: the lighting in the Old Navy dressing rooms. Now, Meghan and I have had many detailed conversations about this plight affecting our shopping. The problem, I believe, begins with the fact that we begrudgingly go into Old Navy to shop. I mean, we like our Banana Republic and Anthropologie and J.Crew and Joe’s Jeans/Citizens of Humanity. But, with a baby for her, and law school for me, there just isn’t money in the budget for those places.

Now, I’ve gotten permission from the Husband to buy said expensive clothes, as he ALWAYS can tell a difference with how expensive clothes fit me versus how target/old navy clothes fit me. In his defense, I have one of those body types that NEEDS good (read: expensive) fabric to cling in the correct areas. If something stretches out (which Target/Old Navy and even Gap inevitably do after 8 washes), it looks like absolute crap on me. I’m just saying that only sometimes my husband says “Don’t wear those jeans — wear your nice ones. Those jeans are all droopy in the butt”. But, I’m not going to wear my NICE jeans to school every day now am I? No, I do what every red-blooded American does and saves them for “special occasions” — like weddings and graduations (I am, of course, joking).

I gotta admit that I used to be a pretty good bargain shopper. I take advantage of Loehmann’s and Nordstrom Rack and Off 5th Ave. I can get name brand clothing cheaper than usual. BUT, the problem with that is: I don’t have the time. Bargain hunting requires going through racks of clothes and trying stuff on and going 3 different places for the best price. I just don’t have time for that right now. So, I end up going where I know generally which cut/brand/size will fit without a lot of fuss. Also, Target/Old Navy jeans are $15.00. Joe’s/7/Citizens are (at discount stores) $90.00 to (at Nordie’s) $185.00. That is roughly the price of a textbook — so I gotta prioritize.

Now, Old Navy and I already have a love-hate relationship. Love because of the variety and the prices. Hate because I’m not a 14 year old, Size 1 girl willing to wear a jean skirt short enough to show her Vajeen. Also, “hate” because I will not wear Uggs with every outfit. Or any outfit for that matter. It is SoCal people — it is never going to be cold enough for furry boots. But, I guess if your Vajeen is hanging out of a jean skirt then you would want your feet to be comfy — god knows I would want at least that for myself.

So, since the lighting in the Old Navy dressing rooms makes me want to kill myself, I got to thinking that maybe I wasn’t the only one. I googled it and sure enough — it is a common problem. I came across this open letter from a blog that I don’t remember the name of. It was brilliant and pretty much sums up everything I am saying here.

Dear Old Navy:

I’ve noticed it, and I wasn’t going to say anything, but it seems that any amount of quality there used to be in your clothing has completely gone out the window. I understand having light fabrics for spring, but lately I can’t buy a pair of pants from you guys without them getting all stretched out beyond repair within a month. And that’s from leaning over or just getting in my car or something. It’s not like I’m trying to do aerobics. I’ll buy a pair and think that I’m losing massive amounts of weight, when in reality they just keep getting bigger and bigger until I have to go back to your store and buy another pair, because I’ve become addicted to that feeling of not wearing pants at all.

That’s a different problem that you really don’t have to deal with. That’s sorta my own issue, but I digress.

Your clothes hardly cost anything, which I really appreciate. But I’m gonna tell you a little secret. If you could put some nicer lighting in your dressing rooms, I might buy even more clothing. I might think that only your clothes can make me look this good. Because I’ll walk into your store with a decent amount of self-respect, but I end up leaving feeling like a big, fat, fatty gross-girl. And that’s not cool, yo.

And could you just sell a pair of shorts? Not board shorts, not ass shorts, not long shorts, just some freakin’ shorts.

And back pockets are IMPORTANT because they make our butts look smaller. We all know that. I’m not falling for that tiny corner pocket thing. That makes your ass look huge. HUGE. It’s not cute and it’s not funny. I’ll continue to shop on the men’s side if you keep screwing with me.

And I know that big floral dress thing you’re trying to pull off as “fashion” is just a joke, and I’m not falling for it, okay?

Do me one last favor and we’ll call it even. All the size ones? Yeah, could you make sure that they aren’t on the racks anymore? If someone wears a one they have to go to the clerk and ask for them to get it out of the back. I’m sick of falling in love with a skirt only to find out that it’s only that cute because it’s a size one, and in my size it looks like a tablecloth. And if you don’t have any other sizes for an outfit besides one, two and three, just put it in the “Jealousy” section and let all of the cute small girls fight over it over there, because I’m tired of listening to them coo over each other’s tininess.

So, yesterday, in the dressing room, I was trying on my eight-item limit and as I took off my clothes and looked in the mirror, the same two things happened that always happen when I go in dressing rooms.

I have a terrible paranoia that the dressing room is being watched. There’s a camera somewhere above me, or– even worse –in the mirror. Someone is watching me try on these clothes and pose and stretch and see if I look like a fool when I bend over. Someone watching me try on bras or bathing suits or dresses that I know I’m going to look like an idiot in but I just want to try on anyway. They see when I get something too small that I thought would fit and then they see me when I start to cry because I hate myself and I hate clothing and I hate that we have to keep buying these things that don’t really make us happy at all and just cover up our obscene parts like our thighs.

I am not as attractive as I’ve fooled myself into thinking. I don’t know if it’s the lighting or what, man, but you get me in a dressing room and suddenly I’m looking like Gilbert Grape’s mama, and it’s just depressing. I have weird things wrong with my body that I’ve never seen before. I have mirrors at home. I’m pretty familiar with the way my body looks normally, but put me in a dressing room and I’m like, “Is this what everyone else sees? What’s wrong with my knees? How can I have fat knees? Ew! Ew!” It’s all so depressing that I end up spending more than I want to just so all of the clothes fall into all of the categories I have so that I can go home feeling okay:

Clothes that fit that I hate, but I need because I have to have clothes that fit. I’ll try and cover them up with distractions, like shoes and t-shirts.
Clothes that don’t fit that I’m convincing myself that I’m going to fit into in about a week, when I go on my new Life Changing routine that involves lots of water, stair climbing, more Billy Blanks, no potatoes, and only Diet Coke. />
Clothes I don’t even like but I feel like I might like them if I wear them a few times because they don’t look bad on me, but I worry about whether or not I actually look like an idiot in them.
Clothes I didn’t even try on because I want to fit in it and I want it in my wardrobe, so I buy them to try on at home and if it doesn’t fit or look right it’ll just sit in my closet forever, but the fact that I just bought something right off the rack is a liberating feeling I bet those size-one girls feel all of the fucking time.
Hair accessories or makeup to make myself feel cute and pretty when I’m holding clothing that I hate that feels too big and is made of too much fabric for the body that I think I am in my head.

And I try and find a female cashier, because I always think that the male cashiers are just looking at the size tags and not the price tags and thinking, “I wouldn’t have thought she was this big of a girl.” I know they couldn’t be thinking that, but in my world they are. They all are.

Love,

Your Customer