Anyone who knows me irl knows that I hate clothes shopping. I am not a size zero model with legs up to FSM knows where, that I have no clue about taupe going with neon orange or that the brand new black is actually hot pink.
Rather, I spend my days in tracksuit pants, takkies (sneakers to my American friends), tshirts and various other states of only dress like this if you truly don't give a shit. And normally I don't give a shit.
Until now.
Himself has been invited to a fairly formal work function, one where the tannies who go, dress to kill with enough make up on to keep most parts of Africa covered in base for years to come. And then there's me....minimal make up, hair done at the home "salon", no nails to speak of, someone who only recently discovered the joy that is pubic waxing....a distinct aversion to anything with fashion in it's name. I am the ultimate make over slob for anyone out there who might be considering it. (Email me, we can set up a time :).)
For a few days now I have been panicking. Firstly because my go to wardrobe item (a timeless floor length black skirt) seems to have shrunk on me. Secondly, I've been popping into all the shops hoping against hope that they carry my size (tripple XL) in the newest range just imported from those Chinese sweatshops. I wonder if anyone has ever thought to educate the Chinese in western sizes? I mean really, an adult small wouldn't even fit C and she's 7 years old.
While trawling through the mall this morning I spotted a newish boutique shop. You know the one where all the fat chicks go to oohing and aaahing over the flimsy sexy looking things that look so good on that size below zero model? Where you just know the minute you walk in that they don't have your size and probably never would? That one. I really thought they wouldn't have anything that I could possibly wear. but I was wrong.
I think my black pants and black sorta heely shoes will go really well with this don't you?
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