As supercilious as I am concerning how people dress and act, I am surprisingly open minded and nonjudgmental concerning how people choose to live their lives. For the most part I believe if you aren’t hurting anyone or yourself you should do whatever you want. […]
I hate malls. I feel like a rat in a maze filled with horrible choices and pretzels that may or may not be sprinkled with crack. I’m on to you Auntie Anne! You crafty bitch.
Every now and then I venture out of my bear cave (usually with the lure of food). I join the unwashed masses in the never ending search for fashion that will hide whatever flaw my neurosis is currently fixated on. This could range from feeling like my upper arms are slowly morphing into horror wings that Bats would lust after, too fearing if I wear corduroys and walk to fast I will start a fire. After a recent trip to the mall with the mother-ship, I realized some things .
The layout of most large department stores is terrible. They should just set up a gradient based on size. Skinny and Petite bitches who believe that zero is a size, go to the right and enjoy your belly shirts and peplum skirts. Medium sized chicks to the center enjoy all of the cute outfits you lucky fucks. Big girls to the left and stay the hell away from tights and anything labeled “jegging”. No amount of elastic is going to hold you in the way you imagine.
Who thought, “Hey! Lets put petites and plus sized right next to each other! They are both special sizes!” ? That person is a dick.
You should also have a locked room that requires a psych evaluation to leave. That room houses bathing suits and intimates. No one should leave without a hug after that experience. Fuck the asshole who invented Bandeau tops btw. What. The. Fuck. In case string bikinis weren’t ‘bad enough. Now they have a bikini that will crisscross strangle your nipples for you! They eliminated all hope that chicks with naturally big jugs were going to be comfortable for a summer. Do you have any idea what happens to your neck after an entire day in a halter bikini when your cup size is on the upper end of D?! Road rash and bruising. Whats that? Go strapless you say?! LOLOLOL no, thanks. I don’t want to get arrested for flashing innocent bystanders.
There is currently way to much cross pollination of sizes in the sales rack. I want to know that while I am burrowing through the Medium, Large, Extra Large rack, I will find something close to my size. I prefer not to root around and think I have found an awesome shirt and be horrified when I realize it’s an extra small dress that my Corgi Mango couldn’t squeeze into.
Flipping through pants is the worst:
“no, no, no, dear god wtf are these?, no, maybe, YES!… awww FUCK! size ZERO! WTF?! This is the LARGE RACK! cunts,.. no, no, no, no. Fuck this place where are the pretzels?”
I do like that they relegate all the old ladies and the Drag Queen wannabes at MAC to one section. That way you don’t have to walk through the poision cloud if you don’t want to.
Men have it the best. Day clothes, work clothes, nice clothes, shoes and undies. DONE. If it goes on sale they have it broken down by a waste, inseam size and its never more than $20. A dude can walk into Macy’s with $100 go to a sale rack and walk out with a new wardrobe in an hour TOPS. I walk into Macy’s with $100, 6 coupons, 4 bonus codes, a Macy’s charge card and a gift card for $30. I will walk away with 2 shirts and a pair of socks. It will have taken me 3 hours to find, procure and defend those items all the way to the cashier. It’s just you against the seasoned shopping vets who are not afraid to elbow drop you over miss-labeled Michael Korrs top. Those women are not above using psychological warfare in the form of “helpful opinions” to appropriate said article of clothing.
It is because of this experience I shop online. I would rather risk buying a dress that looks like a sausage casing when I Crisco myself into it, then deal with trying something on in the black hole of happiness that is a department store dressing room.