Just Another Work-Clothes Rant
I am not that small.
I mean, yeah, I'm short, and I'm not big, but I'm not freakishly teeny, either. I'm kind of.... average-sized. So why the hell can't average stores carry clothes in my size?
I need to wear clothes to work. And while I can deal with my non-work clothes being either poorly-fitted or highly specialized, for work I need simple, washable, professional-looking stuff. No hip-huggers, no pencil skirts, no babydoll tees.
Unfortunately, if I want clothes that fit, I need to either shop at Super Petite Elite Specialty Stores, where pants costs more than my wedding ring did and are dry-clean only, or at the Juniors department of other, more reasonably-priced stores, where the current trend in clothing is best described as Little Ho Peep.
All I ask out of life is a pair of non-pleated, machine-washable pants that start near my waist, end near my ankles, and either don't gap enough at the top for a patient to crawl down them or actually have belt loops. And a sequin-free, glitter-free blouse that doesn't hang like a tent. Is that too much to ask?
This rant is brought to you by my mad dash through my closet as I try to get ready for a new-practice interview today, in a desperate attempt to look professional and not like an eighth-grader in my mom's clothes.....
I mean, yeah, I'm short, and I'm not big, but I'm not freakishly teeny, either. I'm kind of.... average-sized. So why the hell can't average stores carry clothes in my size?
I need to wear clothes to work. And while I can deal with my non-work clothes being either poorly-fitted or highly specialized, for work I need simple, washable, professional-looking stuff. No hip-huggers, no pencil skirts, no babydoll tees.
Unfortunately, if I want clothes that fit, I need to either shop at Super Petite Elite Specialty Stores, where pants costs more than my wedding ring did and are dry-clean only, or at the Juniors department of other, more reasonably-priced stores, where the current trend in clothing is best described as Little Ho Peep.
All I ask out of life is a pair of non-pleated, machine-washable pants that start near my waist, end near my ankles, and either don't gap enough at the top for a patient to crawl down them or actually have belt loops. And a sequin-free, glitter-free blouse that doesn't hang like a tent. Is that too much to ask?
This rant is brought to you by my mad dash through my closet as I try to get ready for a new-practice interview today, in a desperate attempt to look professional and not like an eighth-grader in my mom's clothes.....