The Blonde Leading the Blind

Last week I discovered that I’d reached a whole new level of desperation involving my wardrobe (or lack thereof) when I accidentally tore a hole in my last remaining pair of black tights and actually considered coloring in the exposed flesh of my leg with a black Sharpie so I could continue wearing them to work.

I hate shopping for clothes that much.

I’ve reached a point where the clothes I purchased most likely back in 1999 have become so tattered and ragged that no amount of sweaters, t-shirts or cleverly-placed jewelry will conceal the signs of the past nine years of wear and tear.  So, after work on Monday I headed to a new shopping destination, Avenue, after a friend mentioned that her sister had found some nice clothes in her size there.  She was right.  There were nice clothes there…some that I would even wear.  The prices were reasonable.  They had a variety of sizes and colors in stock.  Still, I walked out of the store with nothing.

As someone who has struggled with her weight for years, I’m particularly sensitive to the stereotype that overweight people are fat, unmotivated, slow and lazy slobs.  And, nothing sends me into a blind rage faster than when I witness my chunky sisters and brothers behave in such a manner.  Help me out here folks, you’re ruining it for the rest of us.

I walked into the store not to be pleasantly greeted by Avenue staff, but instead to overhear two employees moaning and groaning about having to fold a stack of t-shirts for a table display.  SpiderHusband and I browsed through the racks selecting about dozen items for me to try on without either of them so much as turning their head in our direction.  When I was ready for a fitting room, I moved toward the not-so-dynamic duo thinking they’d get the hint, but no, the chatter just continued until I finally asked if the fitting rooms were unlocked.

To which one of my worst stereotypes imagined huffed and muttered “Ummmphhh.  I’ll take this one.” before shuffling her way back to the fitting room area.  I became increasingly irritated as I tried on the clothes and found that I needed smaller sizes in several of the dresses.  But, even my passive-aggressive super loud talking voice couldn’t woo either employee away from their station.

So, I got dressed, hung all the clothes I’d tried on on a rack by the register, and walked out empty-handed cursing and ranting to SpiderHusband…something about liking the clothes but being damned if I was giving one dollar of commission to Bertha and Bessie inside.

Did I mention that I have a problem with passive-aggressiveness?

When I got home, I found a coupon in my email from Avenue.com offering 31% off and free shipping for a limited time on online orders, so all was not lost.

Well, except Bertha and Bessie’s commission.