I popped into one of my favorite stores the other day because well, does there need to be a reason? No, but fresh markdowns had happened. Which is really the only time I shop this place, which specializes in quasi overpriced athleisure-y looks that are also perfect for people who travel — or for someone who spends a fair amount of time in front of a computer snacking and likes unconstrictive, unwrinkled clothing.
So I’m in the store, idly flipping through the sale rack and I start petting this pink sherpa jacket because it’s sumptuous and next to it are some soft-as-a-puppy joggers. I reach for the price tag — $39. Not bad. Then I look closer and see that the pants are GIRLS joggers in the GIRLS sale section. The sizing is XXL. Heeeeeeey. Well, considering the fully-adult equivalent of these joggers are at least $30-$40 more, I figure maybe I should try ’em on. Do I dare?
Oh. I dare.
I popped into a dressing room and guess what? They fit. Game. Changer. Now I can start shopping in the slightly less expensive girls section. Yay! Except that then I remember the last time I did that…
::Flashback::
I’m shopping at Target and heading to the boring stuff aisle for plastic wrap and spy the cutest cupcake shirt. Dang — it’s for kids. I pick it up anyway, thinking maybe I could get it for one of my girls. It was marked XXL and could fit a 16-year-old. Huh. I figure I’d just try it on, just to see and lo and behold, it fit! Screw my kids! I bought it FOR ME. Later that week, I wear my glittery Target cupcake shirt to school — and end up feeling like a Glamour Fashion Don’t when I see one of my fourth grader’s classmates wearing… my… exact… shirt.
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