Clotheshorse

trying it on for size

Four days to go and the thing I dread most about going back to work is deciding what to wear. I’ve been in hoodies, jeans and sneakers for the past three weeks, with the infrequent foray into a brassiere for public appearances, but starting Monday, I’ll have dress up and do my hair and wear earrings and proper shoes and bother with makeup again. Ugh. So much work for so little return.

I do myself a disservice. I can look pretty snappy when I want to, and looking good does help to boost my self-confidence, but I cared so much more for fashion when I had better legs and no back problems. These days, my work wardrobe passes as “business casual” and I’m able to get away with wearing running shoes because I have chronic back problems; however, I am aware that the battered Nikes are closer to retirement than I am.

Shopping for clothes is a dismal endeavour. I see countless possibilities when I’m not in the market and can never find anything when I am. I went shopping earlier this week, walked into a store and promptly forgot what already hangs in my closet. It’s hard to match items when you can’t remember what you have to match them with! And thank the gods I had my cool inspector with me; I asked Ter if the tawny sweater I’d chosen would work on me and she swiftly recommended the oatmeal instead. Then we went to Mark’s because I’ve been hankering for a pair of their bottle green cords since last fall. I should have bought them then, but Christmas shopping took precedence and I hoped they’d go on sale after Boxing Day.

My size is average, which means there’s rarely anything available in my size. I hoot at tags reading “4/32” – that’s a size 4 with a 32 inch leg. I’m sorry, but anyone I know who’s size 4 with a 32 inch leg also has an eating disorder. Anyway, Ter found the bottle green cords, they were on sale, we located a pair in my size (that should have been my first hint), and off I went to try them on.

I was immediately cast back to my youth, when my wee sister and I would crowd into a change room together and get each other’s opinion. I remember once nearly being escorted from the store because we laughed so hard we almost peed ourselves. In the change room at Mark’s, I kicked off my sneaks, slipped out of my jeans, and immediately suspected something odd when my foot was almost too wide for the pant leg. A little persistence won out, mostly because I have fairly skinny legs, but once I was in and zipped up, I looked at my reflection and damn near cracked myself up.

I looked like nerdy Howard Wolowitz in Big Bang Theory, the engineer who is 30 years old and wears a boys’ “large”! I hadn’t noticed the label - the pants model was “curvy/skinny”, which means made for someone not built like the Grinch. So I peeled them off and gave up.

We were both in a wardrobe-enchancing mind, though. Ter picked up a gorgeous top that Moon Pie decided would work extremely well with his natty blue scarf … too bad it’s not in his size.