Round two of Be Weetabix For A Day…
I had seen a circular in the paper Sunday announcing this huge underwear sale over at the mall. Buy two bras and/or pairs of underwear and get a pair free. By mail. Who can resist things in the mail? Especially if it’s new underwear, which I am sadly in need of anyway, thanks to Operation Hottie. I had forgotten that in losing all of this weight, and being able to wear smaller jeans (I don’t say the small jeans, mind you, just smaller) that I would also have to start shrinking the underwear. Otherwise the whole hottie look goes right out the window when you sit down, your shirt rides up a bit, your pants ride down a bit, and the next thing you know you go from having the hot young rockstar look, to having the old pillowy grandma look.
So, anyway yesterday after work, I head over to the mall. A quick stop into the Body Shop for some Papaya scented Body Butter and matching Scrub (it is never too soon to smell like summer) and it’s over to the bra sale.
At first I am so overwhelmed that I don’t even notice what I’m doing. Or rather, I’m thinking too much about what I’m doing to get a good look at the whole picture. Here I am, trying to find bras and underwear in my size. That match. That come with the lovely buy two get one free deal. That don’t come in crummy, yeast infection causing lycra. I have so much to think about. I pick up one set, find a flaw, put it back, pick up another. This goes on for quite some time. I find a set that I like. It’s doesn’t come in my size. I find a bra I like, in my size. No matching panties. What is a girl to do?
So, finally I narrow all of this down to five or six new sets. One olive green lacy set, one turquoise set with…. wait a minute. I’ve been so caught up in finding sets in my size, that match, that come with freebies, that don’t cause yeast infections, when I realize that I’ve over looked something. THE UNDERWEAR MUST MATCH THE CLOTHING.
I stand there in horror for a moment, realizing that I’ve managed to pull out colors that I have never even considered wearing. Then, I start to qualify. QUALIFY. I started thinking. Maybe. Maybe I could wear that… that… well, I’m not really sure what to call this color, but it reaches toward blue. I could wear it with blue jeans and a blue hoodie. Maybe. What color IS this thing?
And that’s when it happened. I’m staring down at the handful of lingerie that I’m holding. I’m thinking, maybe I can buy something in olive green to match the lacy one. And then I see it. The fine print on the back of the buy two get one free tag. OFFER GOOD ON NUDE COLORED UNDERWEAR ONLY! Nude! Nude underwear! No, no no no no no no! I can’t wear nude underwear, it would be like wearing no underwear at all, or wearing the underwear with nothing on top of it, because what else matches nude underwear but… nudity?!
See, this is what I’m talking about when I say that things must match. If I had broken down, and bought this underwear in it’s questionable colors, I would have failed to match, and worse than that, I would have had a drawer full of nude underwear at home.
Needless to say that this would have been a drawer that I never opened. But of course, I would have been unable to throw it out either, because it was free. And I would have bought all this other underwear just to get it. Gah!
I went to Hot Topic and bought some new Tinkerbell underwear after this. I felt that I deserved something like Tink after all of this. I didn’t even go to the Hootchie Mama store. I was too traumatized.
In fact, I’m still traumatized. I feel cheap and dirty and betrayed. I need a shower. Just writing about it has made me feel dirty all over again.
