Tuesday, March 10, 2009
As neighbor Kate and I sat at our craft show, not selling anything, we were discussing getting new clothes. I have this little problem as of late, where my jeans seem to be hanging off me. I'm not complaining, by the way. But I'm not a perfect size 6 like she is, so I was telling her how hard it is for us "full figured gals" to find good fitting jeans. I had previously told her that one of my favorite stores is Torrid. I call it the - and you have to say it fast to make it sound better - "fat chick hoochie mama store". See? Funny, huh? They have sizes right up my alley. And when I go there, I can buy their smallest size, which is a huge self esteem boost for me.
They have all sorts of clothes. Modern and classic, trendy and slutty, basics and accessories. Shoes, too, but I don't have fat feet, only a fat middle, so I can't wear their shoes.
Anyway, Kate proceeds to tell me to head on over to Morbid to get me some new jeans. Of course this strikes me as totally hilarious, because I had never realized how closed Torrid and Morbid sound. And when I hear Morbid, I think Morbidly obese. I wonder if their Think Tank thought of that? Probably did, and thought us fat chicks wouldn't be so quick. But leave it to the skinny girls to point it out.
So today I'm off to Morbid to find some new jeans. Wish me luck.