LIFE WOULD BE SWEET IF I COULD FIT SAMPLE SIZES

Fashion is not for the faint of heart.

(warning: this is one of *those* entries. girlie, harangue-ey and shamelessly lacking substance. You know the routine, read or click the x. Its up to you.)

you'd think that something as trivial as buying clothes would be easy to do right? its not. its an agony to itself, peculiar to women (and an assortment of beau brummells) and should only be attempted when sound of mind, physically confident, and not retaining water. At the moment, im totally neither. In fact i'd venture that the allies had an easier time setting the terms of the treaty of versailles then i have been having shopping for new threads. My punishment for flouting the rules.

As you may not know, my grandparents 60th anniversary is on the horizon. In celebration of this momentous occasion, their children have conspired to throw what is turning out to be a gala event. (i could have said party but gala sounds much more festive wouldn't you agree?)

for the last month I have been dress shopping in preparation for this affair. its been a month of utter disappointment, aggravation, and exasperation. Iced with a dollop of despair. A result of me not being able to find anything to wear.

what fits on top doesn't fit on the bottom.

what fits on the bottom doesn't fit on the top.

it makes me look fat.

it makes me look old.

its too "styled."

its too long.

its too short.

its too revealing(not trying to have cougars see all that titty)

ITS TOO MUCH!

This all bears out the idiocy of procrastination. I knew about this event for months, yea, over a year, and still i waited until the last minute to find something decent to wear. The pressure is high, and if i am being honest, more than a little self imposed. If i had gotten the outfit together before now i wouldn't be having this problem.

On top of everything else i seem to have a latent dromedary gene. Whats that you say? Well I get rid of/minimize fat in one location only to have it appear somewhere else. My lovely lady lumps are no more than fat conduits."Oooh baby, My lipid game is tight!" Is my rallying cry, but really no matter how much i spin it, its still a revolting development. (I'm not sure which of my antecedents i have to thank for this affliction, though i have my suspicions.) While i'm sure this "advantage" would be beneficial in the sahara, its not what's up in the mid atlantic.

Dress code is formal and so far I have found nothing I like that would also be flattering on me. I'm going for a sleek simple look, and the gowns that I find absolutely stunning are those that would look perfect...on a 5'9 120lb woman. I'm 5'3 and my proportions are...dubious. At best. I have um...lots of extra-curricular activities about my person, and as much as I love shopping, its an exercise that brings all my insecurities to the fore. Its as excruciating as it is enjoyable. I mean really, there are so many insecurities to explore and exploit! like how grizzled i look under unforgiving fluorescent lights. Or how my my thighs are "whey" gross. Or why my upper arms are so flabby. The humiliating experience of the rheumy eyed jewish lady, aromatic with the fragrance of shalamar, coming in the dressing room and asking me if everything was ok, and did i need to her to get me a size up? At this last indecency its was a wonder that I didn't run out of Saks, singletary-eyed and screaming like a banshee.

Of course I could wear something I already have, but what's the fun in that? The "ing" in shopping stands for acquiring you know. Why scorn an opportunity to build up my wardrobe? Besides its a pretty big deal this anniversary. There will be attendees from here(where they lived for 40 years) and SC, where they live currently. On such a stage who wants to look fug?

you see I have lots of excuses for buying something new, i just don't have the cojones to face the reality that is me when it come to putting this stuff on. Its like everything blows up in the time it takes to get from my house to the store. I leave my home a size six and arrive at my destination a size sixteen! Then i look in the dressing room mirror, and my reflection is all "why bother?" Bulges heretofore unseen, eroding what what was left of my confidence. Its a cruel world, an unforgiving world. A world that can only to be weathered with mood lighting and foundation garments.

?mark asylum - Hey look away ( the swan song of the fug :P)