Much Ado: Clothes Shopping

I’m seriously considering joining a nudist colony.

Clothes are the worst. From getting them to fit you, having to wash them, developing some sort of style, and most exhausting, shopping for them, I have just had enough.

I’m not going to say that my size and shape is anything less than a blessing, but I have just as many problems as anybody else. It doesn’t matter whether you’re larger or smaller, if you don’t have an Old Navy body, shopping is rough. People think model-esque figures are the ideal, but I keep telling you guys. Me-shaped people convinced everyone they were cool just so somebody would make clothes to fit them. It was a means of survival! My feet are narrow. I’ve been a size 10 since 6th grade. I’m not fat enough for as tall as I am. My butt is too big to buy jeans at predominantly white stores, but I don’t have enough junk in the trunk to fit into black brands. Sleeves are never long enough. The struggle is real.

And trips to buy clothes growing up has left me scarred, and I can’t stand shopping. I still cringe thinking about that sales associate at Nordstrom who laughed at me after I asked for a shoe in size 10 when I was eleven. You still suck, dude.

Finding my size is, of course, not even my only issue with clothes shopping. It seems like shopping trips always find that lovely week every month where I’d prefer to not go anywhere near a fitting room. And what’s with fitting rooms anyways? I don’t like feeling like a criminal. Stop locking them, I’m not going to steal anything. That forces me to find an employee, because they’re never around, and then talk to them and ask them for help, just so they can be annoyed as if I’m not asking them to do their job. Talking to people and asking for help are some of my least favorite things, and looking for clothes is bad enough on its own. Then nothing fits because of course it doesn’t, and you have to trudge out of the room and shamefully walk up to the associate to hand them a pile of unbuttoned, unzipped, unfolded and wrinkled clothes that the piercing glare they shoot at you implies they spent an hour assembling displays this morning and you have the audacity to not buy a single thing.

I thought all of my problems would be answered with online shopping, but I have found no solace. I only ever want what the websites aren’t selling.

How does that work, you ask?

So I’m scrolling through skirts on a site, let’s say.

*scrolling, scrolling*

Oh, hey that top is adorable, how much is that?

The name says Black Skater Skirt? No, no the top though. Where is the top, that skirt is lame, I want the top in the picture.

So I go to the section of the site where all the tops are. I don’t see that top for sale anywhere. Why do they do this on these sites? How are you going to better showcase the clothing that ISN’T FOR SALE?

This happens to me all of the time. I want the hat pictured, but the shirt is what’s being featured. I want those shorts, but they’re selling shoes. I don’t see how this makes any sense. If I had a clothing brand, I would dress my models in exclusively my clothes and only things I’m currently selling. That way, you can always find the look I’m featuring, and all of my products are essentially found on every page of the website. I think that makes a lot of sense. Am I alone? I must be, because NOBODY DOES THIS. So online shopping is no less of a pain than going to the store. Will I ever find peace? Or…clothes? My options are running thin. I’m just saying, if y’all suddenly can’t find me, I’ve probably opted to live in the wilderness bearing all, because I don’t need this kind of stress in my life.

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