Clothes shopping used to be fun...when I was struggling with 5 or 10 lbs. Shopping is painful when you have "more than 10 lbs. to lose" (shall I say), and are stricken with the anxiety that you'll have to move on to a store that carries your size.
It was when I was pregnant with my first child that I actually became fat. It was during that time too, that I realized what horrible, mean, places dressing rooms are. I knew I’d gained a LOT of baby weight and wanted to avoid my reflection in the mirror. I had occasion to go to a Hudson’s dressing room after work to try on bras. Hudson’s dressing rooms were notorious for badly lit, unflattering mirrors. I unzipped my dress-- to my waistline only and started to put on the bra… when my dress fell down to the ground and I accidentally looked in the mirror. Behind me I saw… an Enormous, Puckery Backside and jumped out of the dressing room! As it turned out…it was not some stranger in the room with me (which is why I jumped)… it was MY own backside!
A certain plus-sized store tried make things easier by creating “Virtual Models” which were available on their website. The idea was, you entered in all your statistics--height, weight, body shape, etc—and you could see what their clothes might ACTUALLY look like on you. What you ended up with, however, was an gigantic version of yourself that looks a lot like Eddie Murphy as “Norbit’s “wife. You could almost picture the Virtual Model winking and saying:
“Damn Baby! You lookin’ phat in that outfit!”
They don’t have the virtual model option anymore—probably because once women see what they ACTUALLY look like in their clothes, they’re not going to buy them.
Lately, I’ve been giving mail-order a try-- they usually have my size. I also really, really like it when my order arrives--it’s like a Christmas present delivered by Santa—only this time, Santa is dressed in a brown shirt and shorts! The problem with a catalog is that the same item looks one way on the picture and entirely different on my body, in the light of my bedroom, in front of my mirror. Consequently, I have to call back the “Santa Dressed in Brown” to retrieve his present.
Recently, I went to a plus-sized store and found a Color Coded Body-Type section. You have three choices—you are either a Red, a Blue, or a Yellow. Each color stands for a different body shape, and so-- in theory-- you’ll find your perfect fit. Apparently, though, if you’re not one of these three body shapes, you are a Khaki, which is in the “tent section” of the neighboring sporting goods store.
What I really want is a futuristic take on clothes shopping--something like the “Jetsons.” While Rosie the Robot stood guard, the conveyor belt would take me behind a screen and when I came out on the other side *POOF*! I’d be dressed in an outfit that fit me perfectly.
But wait a minute---Jane Jetson was SKINNY, wasn’t she??