get ready to judge me in three, two…
a few weeks ago i decided to take myself out on a little shopping venture. and by “shopping venture,” i mean that i walked around the forum aimlessly, tried on at least 30 pieces of clothing at at least four different stores, and finally left with bronzer, eye liner and a new eye shadow compact. so you know, not a total loss, but definitely a big old goose-egg in the wardrobe department.
and i mean, it’s probably just as well. i’m really trying to save up my funds for a spend-a-palooza trip to the j.crew outlet store in nashville when i visit my bestie transported from the westie in just three short weeks, but sometimes when you have an open saturday, you just need to fill it with an hour in the target dressing room, ammiright?
well, the following judge-worthy sartorial moment actually didn’t happen in turrrget, but in my beloved anthropologie instead. i walked in, took a big inhale of the anthro smell (don’t tell me you don’t know about the anthro smell -the perfect combination of candles, perfume, and grossly overpriced garments? it’s glorious), and made a bee-line toward the sale room (yes, they have an entire room). after browsing the racks of dolman sleeved tops (can we stop making these please?) and floral motif-ed a-lines, i happened upon this:
i warned you. and now i’ve lost all fashion credibility, haven’t i? but before you write me off, can i offer a rebuttal?
i’m a child of the overall generation. i mean i think i wore them off and on from about 1987 to 1999. so you know, some habits die hard, y’all. and seeing as i can’t help my love affair with rompers/onesies, i figured this denim jumpsuit could combine my love for both. so i found my size (which was probably my first issue, seeing as they hardly ever have my size, i felt that i had to try it on based on sheer principle), along with a few other items and scampered into the dressing room.
i’m not gonna lie, i kind of had high hopes for this little number. i envisioned it paired with a simple white tee and my suede booties, possibly a circle scarf to transition it from summer to fall. but as i slipped one limb into a pant leg and then the other and shimmied the unforgiving chambray up over my milkshake and hips (the former brings all the boys to the yard, the latter, don’t lie), i had a sinking feeling this solo runway show would not bode well. i pulled the bib over my decolletage and fastened the halter behind my neck, adjusted the fabric around the midsection and took a cold, hard look in the mirror.
yikes, i thought.
it was all kinds of wrong.
i take it back. there were a few glimpses of right, but the wrongness far out shadowed them. so you know, awesome.
bottom line, this garment was not designed for people with
taste long torsos. and thanks to my momma (i got it from my momma), i am the proud owner of one -a long torso, that is. and this view was just from the front.
i turned around to take a gander at how the junk in my trunk was faring and it was not much better. actually, it was worse. somehow my abundance of torso and under-abundance of fabric had created this elongated backside mess. in other words my bum looked extra long. i mean, normally bums are latitudinal in nature, not so much longitudinal, and yet, there i was, a fashion anomaly.
i returned to my original position, head-on in the mirror and mustered up the best “girl, you fierce” pose, complete with skinny arm and lip purse. but to no avail. there was no salvaging this outfit. not even the $39.99 price tag (that price is like the chupacabra of anthropologies) could convince me of following through with this purchase. i mean, part of me wanted to give it a sophomoric go-around and find the next size up, but you know, i think we all know i would have just been delaying the inevitable.
so i managed to squeak out a chuckle or five as i slid the dumper (that’s denim + jumper, but i’d like to think it’s a double entendre, too) off my bod and back onto the floor, replaced it on the hanger and redressed in my lululemon crops and striped j.crew sweatshirt.
and while the logical side of me knew that i had just dodged a major bullet by not purchasing said garment, the emotional side couldn’t help but feel a bit downtrodden as i made my way out of the dressing room and back into the store itself.
despite what people might think, i think the sharlene halter jumpsuit and i could have been very happy together. but alas, for this long torso-ed gal, we will never know.