Monday, June 28, 2010

The Quest

This weekend, I had a Quest. At first, I just thought I had some errands, or a goal, or a project, even. Alas, no, it was a *Quest* - capital Q to show emphasis, and probably some guys running around clapping coconuts together too, for added absurdity.

I needed some shorts, and not just any shorts, jean shorts.

On Friday, The Man misheard me saying "I want to go clothes shopping WITHOUT THE KIDS" to mean, "Let's all go clothes shopping TOGETHER." Simple misunderstanding, the two are practically interchangeable!

That ended with Princess having a meltdown because we wouldn't buy her some CRAZY overpriced toy in the limited 2-aisle toy section, and Casanova crying because we didn't want to buy him a Superman shirt. See? And alllll that could have been avoided. On a bright note though, The Man found two nice shirts and a pair of jeans! I *thought* I found some denim shorts that didn't make me look like an Orca strapped into jean fabric, so I threw in the towel and headed to the checkout.

(After Casanova hurled threats at the cashier because *I* told her we would NOT be buying the $100 remote control car - seriously, WHO PUTS THAT CRAP by the registers?!?!?! I'll need names and addresses - we were able to tranquilizer dart subdue him and get to the car. He's not *always* the smooth ladies' man, you see. Especially if you deny him a remote control car.)

Thus ended part one of what would be The Quest.

Saturday, I got dressed, putting on my shiny new jean shorts. Um. Yes. Well. What had appeared to be decent-fitting in the optical illusion dressing room was NOT well-fitting at home, in a real mirror. Luckily, for my sanity (and frankly for yours), they were too big, rather than too small. Apparently I hadn't noticed in the dressing room how there was a big pouch in the front, which I guess I could use to smuggle beers into a concert or something. (Great, where were those shorts LAST month when I went to a concert?!) There was also a gap in the back, where I'd either have to wear a belt of industrial-strength, or be prepared to show off my *awesome* underwear choices.

Okay, so back the stupid big shorts went.

I waited until The Man had taken the kids to Lowe's (send me money and gift cards), and since going to Lowe's with the kids is like an ice pick to the brain only less pleasant, I skipped merrily off to the clothing store.

Denim shorts, here I come!

Or not. It was a QUEST, so naturally, I couldn't just FIND what I wanted without a lot of pain and struggle.

Women's section? Well that would make sense wouldn't it! But no. Misses? Maybe. But again, no.

The problem seems to be that clothing designers (I'm going to say men, here, just because I feel I should blame them) design for women with hips, but no butt, and a waist just throws them off altogether.

Forget all the fruit shapes: apple, pear, mango, whatever. If I were cylinder shaped, I'd be fine.

As I tell my BFFIC (who happens to be Hispanic so it's totally cool), my butt thinks it's Latina. The rest of me is hopelessly Caucasian. This makes finding pants....difficult at best.

Finally, nearly weeping with failure and exhaustion, I stumbled into that fabled land of clothing yesteryear: the juniors department. Before you get all smug and smirky and start quoting Stacy London at me, allowmetoexplain....

If there remained a CHANCE of me finding shorts, I had to try, however fruitless it might be...

Size 0. WTF?! I don't even want to SEE the type of junior who can wear those pants. Rack after rack, 0 or a 17. Not much in between. Crap.

Sidenote: The current trend appears to be shirts that are blouse-y but then elastic at the bottom. In short: Maternity Chic. Newsflash bitches, I've BEEN pregnant and I've WORN maternity, and I'll be DAMNED if the bagger at the grocery asks me when I'm due just because I'm wearing your idiotic blouse-y/ruched/elastic piece of crap!! I won't do it! (My friend, K.Jo, thinks this is because so many teens are getting knocked up - it's like maternity without the label.)

Furthermore, while in Juniors, I did not encounter ANY JUNIORS. I saw two or three women my age, with some significantly older; all of us, grimly searching through the racks, and muttering curses under our breaths. Or maybe that was just me. Either way though, same problem! The Women's or Misses' section had only the Ill-Fitting Tent variety of shorts. Juniors was our last bastion of hope!

I found a few pairs of jean shorts that fit, but the ones that fit the best were intentionally ripped in areas that might not be age-appropriate. Or personality appropriate. Or appropriate for anyone really, who wasn't a crack whore. Ahhh, Crack Whore Chic, the precursor to Maternity Chic!

So, Friends, I picked up my two pairs of distressed khaki-ish shorts from Juniors, and I left. NO DENIM = The Quest failed.

They're comfortable, and reasonably cute, I'll give them that. But the Quest will go on, until I find some jean shorts that fit, and that won't get me arrested for soliciting. Again.

Comments, questions, where do you shop?

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