Hips Don’t Lie

Today I found myself wallowing in self-loathing. Why, you ask? Because I went shopping for new pants…and it wasn’t pretty. I came to a bitter conclusion. I am not a tall, thin 22 year old. I am a short, kinda stocky 30 year old. Didn’t I know this before? Yes, of course but it seems like it is getting increasingly more difficult for someone like myself (you know a normal sized woman) to walk into a store and find clothes that fit off the rack. I don’t remember this being such a problem for me before. Is it that my body has changed significantly or has the clothing industry changed? I just want some darn pants. I don’t want my ass hanging out. They won’t be worn with stilettos to a go-see.

Okay now I’m done with my pity party. Thank you for indulging me. The bottom line, which is difficult to see when you are staring at yourbottom line in those horrible dressing room mirrors, is that it doesn’t matter what size the pants are. They just need to look good on you. So if I have to go a size up, then fine. I guess I would rather look good in jeans regardless of the arbitrary size number. It does get hard to still feel optimistic about your body when it appears as though the fates are against me. However, after three stores and more jeans than I ever care to see, I FINALLY found a pair that fit. Clearly made for adult women with curves and not teenage America’s Next Top Model wannabes. It was a size larger than I wanted but they look great. Let’s just hope I don’t need anymore clothes soon.