I Need to Stop Shopping the Junior Section (like at Fred Meyer)

How do I know I need to do this? Well, probably because I am usually the only one there pushing a cart through the mercilessly skinny aisles, filled with milk, trash bags and hemorrhoid cream, with two kids grabbing every other clothing item they see and throwing them on the floor. I get Jr. High School-worthy scowls and rolling eyes from teenagers every time, but, I don’t care...much. And truly, when I have the guts to venture in, I never find much.

Of course I am not interested in advertising my own Muffin Top, or wearing a “vintage” tee or donning Lycra-woven dresses. But, every time I step into the “women’s” section, and I start to see those boxy wool sweaters with holiday themes and shiny buttons, the gray hairs on my head start to glow like Frodo’s sword in LOTR and I can feel my neck skin sag a little closer to my feet. I have to rush over the thongs in the lingerie department just to reverse the effects…and I hate thongs…that’s just how far I’ll go…

Because of this, on-line shopping, especially at Old Navy, is now my standard M.O.

But what am I supposed to do? I am learning that “50” is the new “30”, so I guess that puts me at about 15-years-old or so? Which is fine, ‘cause I am, once again, feeling awkward and not sure about where I fit in…should I be telling the teens to go buy some onesies and leave me alone?

Some women my age really have it down; these perfectly coiffed women wear cute, classic, yet “young” outfits, adorned with just the right amount of “bling”, and to-die-for shoes. And, I am assuming they are either millionaires or in a fashionably fabulous financial hole. Or, I am just so blasted bad at clothes shopping that I need a full-time tutor.

If I were ever nominated for “What Not to Wear” Stacy and Clinton would kill me. I would desperately be trying to escape their manicured grips, running for the first Old Navy I saw, demanding the ONE shirt I like in every color, any pair of pants in a size 6, and all the coupons they had handy. Stacy would hurl her Louboutin shoe at my head, as I ran to the register (in my comfortable and sensible clogs), hoping she rendered me unconscious or put out my eye. That’s when I would break the heel off, point it at Clinton and tell him that I think his plaid pants are too tight. My, that would be an ugly episode…

Anyway I actually DID brave the mall to stop into Old Navy last month and buy some turtlenecks, because my old ones had holes, and my zits have decided to party on my neck recently (TMI? Sorry…you have to suffer with me). I kid you not, I think two teenagers were purposefully out to ruin my day, like, they knew how pathetic I was in HS, so they followed me, and mocked every shirt I picked up, with some garble-y slang I really didn’t understand and nauseating giggles. Their Heathers-like behavior propelled me back to the halls of Secondary Education Hell, causing me deep grief and anxiety, and the strong desire to listen to Depeche Mode. I am not, by nature, a person that seeks revenge BUT…if I could have gotten their Blackberries and stepped on them with a Louboutin heel, I would have.

Oh HOW am I going to survive The Teenage Years with my daughter? At least by then I will have made peace with elastic waistbands and sweaters adorned with reindeer, I hope…

But until then, I will shop, on-line, in the safety of my own home, away from the scary teenagers and possible heels of Stacy, praying that Old Navy doesn’t change their sizes and keeps “The Basics” around for me to buy in every color. Yes, I am stickin’ to my Levi’s 518 boot-cut jeans (the best jeans in the world in EVERY way) and I will probably layer tanks, henleys and cardigans for the rest of my life.

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