Niek, the man who'll wear his underwear till they are more hole than material, who wears his Tshirts long past the stage where you truly can read a paper thru them, told me this morning that my shirt was a bit too ... well, used! ... to wear to work. Yesterday he pointed out that my pants were decidedly unflattering. It must be admitted that I am one of those apparently very rare women who absolutely abhors clothes shopping. And, okay, the clothes I was wearing were older than most of our kids. I think Max was up to 2 & 3 word sentences the last time I went clothes shopping and actually bought clothes.
So this afternoon I ventured out thinking really, how hard can it be to find one or two stretchy-type pullover thingies and a pair of pants? Three stores later I was dangerously close to tears and convinced that if only I could sing, I would do any opera proud. You know, for the end part, where the fat lady sings.
What do they DO to those changing room mirrors? Surely I don't really look like that? Botticelli's Bathing Beauties, Rueben's Runway - I could be a star. Tomorrow I have my hour & half yoga workout, maybe I can convince myself that all is not lost.
Today's artwork is borrowed from here.
