2000-12-21 - 11:38 p.m.
If I may whinge for a moment? I hate buying blue jeans.
I was reminded of this yesterday when I decided to bite the bullet and order a new pair, since it has gotten quite cold and the two pairs that saw me through the past couple of years are now at the unreliable-zipper, ratty-at-the-seams stage. They also were a couple of inches too long and often felt a trifle too tight in the waist, so I decided to go about replacing them in a proper fashion, so I dug my tape measure out of my sewing tin and took down my current measurements.
After collecting the requisite numbers, I matched them against the size chart. Then I finally remembered why I'd given up last time and settled for two pairs off the rack at A Local Cheap Department Store, rolling up the cuffs and enduring the slightly bloaty feeling one gets when wearing pants-that-fit-perfectly-on-a-good-day on a not-so-good day.
The oaths caught my husband's attention - he does quite a bit of programming at home, so usually the frequent and fluent swearing is coming from his corner rather than mine. "And the problem is...?"
"My waist is size 14 and my hips are size 4," I wailed. "No wonder I can't find a !@#@!$ pair of !@#$%# pants to !@#*$& fit..." The "virtual model" program didn't help me out either - as far as I can tell, it can coordinate styles but not sizes, and it's gender-limited - so that, for instance, I can't yet compare whether a men's size 32 would make me look less like a denim-clad pear than a women's size 14.
After surfing (and snarling) some more, my head was aching and I was running out of foul language, so I decided to bag the whole problem (so to speak) by taking all my clothes off and going to bed. I may simply stick with dresses for the rest of my ambulatory life. Hence my continuing search for a satisfactory source of thigh-high winter stockings, since I loathe pantyhose (though how I love feeling sleek!).
After watching Princess Mononoke tonight, I want Lady Eboshi's costumer, frivolous evil me that I am (not to mention a wild wicked urge to sleep on furs). I was also thinking of Baroque French operas during lunch and how I haven't had the chance to swish around in my burgundy gown this season (no formal parties this year - a relief in its way, but swishing is fun). I'll have to wash my hair tonight to look presentable for tomorrow's meetings. I'll worry about the socks tomorrow - I'm going to head into the shower now and then slip into a flannel gown and fuzzy slippers. Maybe I'll celebrate Christmas by staying in sleepwear all day...
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