I basically hate shopping for myself.
When I am on the lookout for a gift for someone else I invariably find a thousand things that I want for myself, but when I am looking for clothes for me I usually end up stomping off to my car feeling gross, having nothing and thinking the fashions these days were NOT designed for me.
Don’t get me started on jeans. Holy denim, what are these manufacturers thinking? First of all, why would I want to spend $125 on jeans that are ripped? I don’t get it. Everybody wears them, young and old. I see them everywhere and at times I think I might cave and buy some, but then my brain screams “Don’t do it you fool!”.
Jeans used to fit me before menopause. Well, at least better than they do now. Now there is this thing that used to be my waist. I’ll call it my “jellyroll”. I am aware that many folks call this unforgiving geographical body part a muffin top, but I don’t think that does it justice. I mean, muffins don’t roll and neither do they wiggle, so I feel that jellyroll is a more apt nom de plume.
Now, to get the jeans to sort of fit, I have to get them big enough to close over the afore mentioned jellyroll. The problem with this is that I also have seemed to have lost my ass, and I’m not talking about losing money at the races. I have a tush with the convexity of a pancake.
So, what happens is the jeans fit me around the waist and sag at the butt, so even with a belt I am constantly hiking up those suckers. It takes more time than I have.
I wish I liked my legs enough to just wear dresses, but that’s another story.