I hate shopping.
I have pretty much always hated trying things on, but I have to say: this weekend took the cake.
Let me set the scene: my office has given all employees an allowance with which to buy new office attire. Awesome, right? No. Not awesome.
I went shopping with Mama Nancy to buy all things office attire-y and classy.
We started at a store that sold all the “fashion basics”. A lot of blacks, whites, greys, navies, some red. I figured, “this will be good. Neutrals.”
I was wrong.
I stuffed myself into dress after dress that were marked size 10 and 12. My shoulders and arms were ready to rip the backs out while my thighs were threatening to burst the skirts at the seams. My waist was baggy and ill fitted.
I quickly decided that this manufacturer did not understand the concept of muscles.
|This is awesome and all, ladies. But seriously, where do you buy real clothes? I NEED TO KNOW.|
I moved onto another store where I had a lot more hope. This store had classy stuff. It wasn’t long before Mama Nancy and I had literally stuffed the dressing room with cute clothes.
It also wasn’t long before I found out that this store, too, did not understand muscles. Everything was suffocating my legs while giving me inches of fabric to spare at my thighs. The fitting room attendants brought me their “curvy” pants. While there was extra room for my squatting booty, there was still no extra room for my quads.
An attendent remarked snarkily (after I went back in the dressing room and, presumably, she thought I was out of earshot), “Ha. ‘Curvy’ ain’t curvy enough for all of that.”
I was hurt. I can’t even lie.
I cried the entire way home.
Poor Mama Nancy had no idea what to do to make me feel better.
I bought some beautiful things this weekend, but most of them will need to be altered to the extreme to accomodate these shoulders and hips.
I want really badly to have some kind of sign that says “my legs are big because I squat a lot” or “my arms are big because pullups!”
I love “looking good naked” but it would be so cool to walk into a store and buy clothes that fit the first time.
It’s Monday now and I’m done feeling sorry for myself.
I worked really hard for strong shoulders to do pull ups and strong legs for heavy deadlifts.
And I am not going to pretend like I’m sorry for it.
In related news: My crossfittin’ friend Kara and I are making our own clothing line. It’s on like Donkey Kong, b*tches.
Anyone else feel me on this one?