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Went clothes shopping yesterday. Ugh.

Am I abnormal for being female and not liking clothes shopping? I think so. But I hate it anyway.

Maybe it has to do with my size. It's not easy to find 18's in teen clothing. I hate trying on things that look really cute on the rack, and then look like a blimp design on me. Or better yet, clothes that look very nice on the silver-colored headless dummy, but feel like sausage casing when I put them on. Most fun were things like highwater jeans (not capris, jeans). They fit and get my hopes up, and then I realized I can see my calves (only they're more like cows). Being 5'9" is not cool, especially when it includes being size 18.

Un-fun-ness.

It wasn't always that bad. Sometimes I found things that actually ::gasp!:: fit. They fit, they looked nice, they actually seemed to remove poundage rather than add it, and they were the kind of clothes I'd wear, instead of the old-lady stuff that I find in the women's department. (Sorry if I sound like a teenager, but anything that would look good on my mom, a 40-something school teacher is out of the question.)

And then Mom would turn over the price tag, and convince me that we could find the same thing elsewhere for less money. She loves JC Penney and Marshall's. Grr.

It was a horrible cycle. I obviously can't wear the broomstick skirts or spaghetti-strap tops and the like that were designed for size 10 and under (side note: drawstring anythings are evil; I don't care whether they're in fashion). Mom kept bringing over shirts with embroidered designs of animals, or flower prints, and I was like, "Silk-screened central design, yes. Unicorns or prints, no."

And Mom has this *thing* about form-fitting tops. I agree, spandex is not my friend, but something that skims rather than clings actually looks nice. It took me long enough to convince my dad to let me wear dresses that show my knees; I wasn't psyched about talking my mom into shirts that reveal contours (and ::gasp!:: cleavage) rather than conceal them.

But at the end of the day, the shopping was finally over. No more shame cycles as I struggled to button a size 16 (the largest some styles came in, sadly) or trying to pull my stomach in. I'd spent about 6 hours searching, and all I had to show for it was 2 pairs of capri pants (yes, the intentionally short kind), 2 pairs of jeans, one short-sleeved collared white button-down shirt, and two adventurously-chosen tank tops that will never be seen out from under the white shirt.

Mom says we'll probably have to do this again before school starts, since "college students don't do laundry as often, and need more clothes." Most girls would consider that a dream come true.

Wake me up, please!

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