||[Sep. 23rd, 2008|10:59 am]
...or, upping the boringness ante.|
So we moved, and Jeremy's not in a coma any more, and stuff, but last night something interesting enough to write about finally happened: clothes shopping!
Wait, stop, don't go! It's exciting because...
Well, to be entirely frank, it's exciting to me because it's the first time in my life I've ever deliberately set out to shop for clothes.
Previous incidents of clothes shopping (under a loose definition of "clothes shopping" that approximates to "languidly wandering around a store unfolding sweaters on tables and neither buying anything nor seriously considering it") include times when I was:
- too small to mount effective resistance when dragged along by my mother
- ambushed by "friends" or "sister" who claimed they wanted to go to the mall for other, less nefarious reasons, but ooh look, a Banana Republic, let's just run in here for two minutes
- in a Goodwill legitimately shopping for fifty-cent paperbacks when my eye was caught by something shiny and multicolored on a clothing rack
- getting married, because apparently that requires a special dres or something
I do not buy clothes. I wear what I find in my closet and drawers, which has accumulated over 15 years of other people giving me clothes for my birthday and Christmas and pity's sake. Some of the sweaters in my closet date back to the fifth grade, when I was the same size as I am now.
The clothes I found in my closet that were remotely suitable for a professional work environment (in the fall, winter, and spring; I have some nice sundresses and skirts and sandals and stuff) were:
- brown leather clogs
- gray wool clogs
- brown pants
- black pants
- white sleeveless button-down shirt
- black sweater
- blue sweater
- pink sweater
- red sweater
Which is a grand total of one shirt, and not even enough sweaters to wear a different one every day of the week. Plus, it recently occurred to me that a person who wears (the same pair of) black pants nearly every single day should really own some black shoes.
Also, my 8-year-old tennis shoes finally gave up the ghost two weeks ago (as in, the sole fell off, and was unresponsive to Superglue), and now that I live within walking distance of... anything... I need some shoes made for walkin'.
So last night I went to Target (it's cheap, and also their clothes seem to fit me better than anything in most department stores on account of baby got back) and bought, without trying anything on (I do have my limits):
- long-sleeved white dress shirt (small; turned out to be smaller than I'd like)
- sleeveless white cami for layering (small; squishes my breasts to be even smaller than they naturally are, which is fine)
- black dress pants (size 8; turned out to be bigger than I'd like)
- 2 pairs black knee socks (one size, thank God)
- 2 pairs black knee-high stockings
- black short-sleeved jackety thing (medium)
- jazzy black sweater coat with cunningly built-in scarf (medium)
- black loafers (size 8; the right one fits, the left one is a bit too big)
- athletic shoes (size 8; as yet untested on anything longer than the shoe aisle)
- frozen pizza (on sale)
- bottle of merlot (well-earned!)
Spent $235, which isn't that bad, I guess, for what I got. I wanted a nice black skirt, too, but all the skirts were too short; I don't like to expose my calves (they are way thick; I have trouble getting the one-size knee socks up over them).
Today I am wearing the cami, dress shirt, pants, knee socks, loafers, and the pre-existing black sweater. I probably look like an orchestra conductor, but better an orchestra conductor than... somebody who still wears sweaters from when she was ten. Also, for outdoor carpool this morning I wore the sweater coat and a pre-existing black brimmed hat, and three people told me I looked "stylish," which I suspect is kindly code for "less of a fashion disaster than usual," but still.
What is really amazing about all this is that I BOUGHT CLOTHES OF MY OWN FREE WILL. Lots of clothes! It seemed like lots, anyway!
Anybody still here? Nobody? I'll get the lights.