Originally posted October 7, 2009
Head, Shoulders, Knee's and Toes, Knees and Toes
I'm a tall girl. Some brain-frozen males have accidently used the word 'big' to describe me (to my face!), and while I have the capacity to understand that it's an easy mistake to make, I've always managed to keep my faculties together and know better than to call a man, 'small!?!!' Anyway, my point is, other descriptive words would be appreciated. So where was I going with this? Oh, yeah....wardrobe malfunctions. I've had more than I can possibly think of on the fly, but I'll humor you with a few highlights (Hell, I'll start at the top):
Head....I was growing out my hair until my hairdresser sister told me that upper 20's ladies need not have hair half way down to their ass. Before she got her way to take off 12 inches, I managed to catch a section of hair in my sunroof while buzzing down the interstate. That f'n hurts, btw. And while I have a very good self-depricating sense of humor, once in awhile I appreciate a little bit of sympathy when describing how I have a bald spot :( boo, wah....
Shoulders....you know that jacket you have in your closet, the one that you think has that perfect, classic style. Well, it doesn't. If you've left a fave piece of clothing in your closet thru more than 3 moves, it's likely that it's not in style anymore. Last week a co-worker was telling me how she pulled out a hoodie (not the word used when this garment was originally created) that was her fave back in the day. She said when she got it out of her closet she hardly recognized it. This, last decade, staple item had a cinched waist and shoulder pads that made her look like a linebacker. I thought this was hilarious. Until, I pulled out my black jacket that I bought in NYC while on a high school trip in the late 90's. P.S. Shoulder pads are no longer a good look for me either. I hope to see a semi-stylish homeless woman wearing it next spring.
Bottom Half....So, my waist hits kinda high, and on more than one occasion I've been high-tailing it out the door in the morning and turn away from my screen door, just to be instantly stopped in my tracks because my belt loop has caught on the door handle. Really?
And another...have I mentioned that I'm vain? So I was walking out of the restroom at volleyball one night, took a quick glance at my rear view, which by the way, on a good day, is not something to write home about (but it's genetic, I come from a long line of flat asses...and I accept it)....anyway, what do I see? The drawstring of my shorts. What the f, I say to myself. Why would the drawstring be in the back...well, that's because I had my shorts on backwards. My friends suck...why did no one notice this? Do you think it was because they were too focused on making sure I had my shirt on right-side out?
Have you ever found the most perfect fitting pants ever, so you buy them in every color? Well, I did this last week. I was sooo happy. Until I put them on with a belt only to realize that pair numero dos was constructed in such an awkward fashion that the zipper veered to the right so dramatically that the button came together at least 2 inches to the right of center (belly button, belt buckle, etc.). How the hell do I take those back? 'Um, miss. Scuse me, but I bought these pants last week and the button doesn't line up with my body.' As I type this scenario out, I can only imagine that I would somehow roll my ankle and fall down, and she would go back to all of her boutique bitch friends and tell them how this wack job with some kind of unfortunate palsy was in here whining about how our pants were off center. Puh-lease!
Knees, oh, my poor knees. Last week I was trotting around in some pointy-toed, unnecessarily high heels, walking up the steps to my house, got one of the ridiculous heels stuck in between the deck boards, go flying to the ground, with only the force that gravity can cause. Poor, poor knees.
Feet. So, as I started this rambling diatribe...I'm a big girl. My feet are big too. But not the biggest. Most reading this will never feel my pain, but first a fact. Women's shoe sizes include half sizes until 9-1/2, then it just goes 10 to 11. As if feet stop growing just a little bit after 9-1/2. Well, my foot has always been tight in a 10 and slips out of an 11. Kiss my ass, shoe designers. Who made up these rules anyway? I'm guessing someone who wears an 8-1/2 or 9-1/2 and found no reason to humor the sad girls wearing boats on their feet. I mean, hell. Why shouldn't my nearly 6' frame be wandering around in shoes that don't fit? Please see previous 'Knee' paragraph.