Tuesday, May 16, 2006

SuperNan to the rescue once more...

Clothing has been, and I suspect forever will be, the bain of my existence. I can't stand clothes shopping.

Berry Queen has given me advice several times on buying clothes. You have to ask yourself three questions, and you much be able to answer all three with yes. These are: 1) Does it fit me? 2) Is it esthetically pleasing? 3) Can I afford it?

Each time I attempt to purchase clothing, I inevitably come home with ill-fitting, unattractive articles that are beyond my price range. As you can imagine, my closet is full of such articles. I have ugly, ill-fitting clothes in my closet that still have the tags on them. Usually, after a trip to buy clothes, I end up wearing my favorite old blue jeans and the Metallica T-shirt my brother bought me while sitting on the couch drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Strawberry Zinfandel.

SuperNan has a unique skill in finding me clothes that fit and that are attractive. She, like most moms, knows how to tug at the waist band, examine my ass, and make sure the ankles aren't constrictive. So, I try to not do any shopping without her.

Last week I noticed that the last two pairs of jeans that Nan bought have holes in them. The waistband of my favorite stone washed has let go, and there is a hole in the crotch of my dark denims. This was enough to reduce me to tears, while consuming cast quantities of Hamburger Helper with a dear friend from first year.

So, yesterday SuperNan and I headed to Wally World, intent upon purchasing jeans that were within our (and by our, I mean her) price range, that would sufficiently conceal every last ounce of back fat, and that would make my enormous thighs appear somewhat... less enormous, if at all possible.

And we did it! We found pants! Back fat, be gone! The world shall have sightings of you no more! Thunder thighs, be concealed! You shall jiggle about in hole-y denim no longer!

Life is worth living!

And you know what the thing is about properly fitting pants? They make you feel good. My ass is completely hidden beneath the denim of a pair of Levi's as we speak. I can bend over to pick something up (Well, theoretically, I could, if not for my back pain woes) and not have small children and felines running for the hills at the sight of my exposed ass. My back fat isn't pushing the tops of the jeans down, and as a result is not pushing the bottom of my shirt up. I look better, feel better, and can walk around with confidence knowing that passerbys can not take in the sight of my newly rounded frame.

It's a good feeling. I recommend you go out and buy a pair of well-fitting blue jeans today.

I'd also like to take this little bit of cyber space to say thanks to my Dear Mother, for coming to my rescue once again. You rock, Mom.



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