So I am purusing (I love that word) through the Victoria’s Secret catalog while waiting my turn for that little bit of pampered piglet pleasure, the pedi., and it dawns on me … there is not one thing in this entire catalog that I could ever possibly even dream of wearing without looking like an overstuffed trash bag. The thing is, I’m not exactly fat, perhaps a few pounds overweight, definately in need of a good workout (or 30), but really? What real woman can wear those things? I ask you sincerely; WHO? Bearing in mind that Victoria’s Secret is basically out of the question unless you are 20 and anorexic, I toss the catalog back on the table with a huge sigh and waddle over to soak the gals.
There is nothing that revives me more than a good pampering, be it massage, facial, or pedi. So once my pedi is complete I am invigorated and ready to hit Macy’s to buy all things summer. What is up with clothing stores today? Who is buying these things? I can guarantee it isn’t a person over the age of 40 that’s for sure. Walking through that entire store it is very clear that there is very little that will realistically look good on my body. I start to question myself … Have I missed the fashion boat? Snug, body contoring clothing beckons me to try, try, try. The lumps and bumps of me warn it’s time to run, run, run. My body is not going to accomodate these styles. As I walk through the racks of clothes I start to look around and notice that I am not the only one discouraged by the lack of age-appropriate offerings … and I am not talking shapeless caftans and mumus … I may be over 40 but my taste, style and attitude all scream much younger … so just give me something modernly stylish that wasn’t crafted with a teenager in mind. Something say, that understands that my breasts are no longer perky and pert, my stomach has accomodated many children, my hips are wider and my arms are not ropey and slender. Nope, I do not sport a models body. What I have is a lumpy, bumpy, body full of misplaced parts that when put altogether are actually just fine. Why? Because I am older. Not fatter. Not lazy. Not anything other than a woman that has been around for awhile and would like to be able to go shopping and find real clothes for a real womans body and not feel hopeless and discouraged when leaving the store.
Hoping for reassurance when I got home, I cuddled into Mr. Farish’s arms and told him how horrible I felt. Here’s the thing; men don’t get it. They don’t. I know Mr. Farish was not trying to be mean, I know he meant well, I know deep down he thought he was being supportive when he said, "You just need to exercise more and then you won’t have any problem." AARRGGHH! Exercise I did … I walked right over to that refrigerator and rummaged around until I found … an apple! And so it goes …