So I got a little excited the other day and started realizing my dream of becoming a true clotheshorse/ fashionista. Those of you who know me better stop snorting right now, because it is my full intention someday to become glamorously fashionable. Or at least as fashionable as some of you.
Anyways, I stopped by a local clothing store (ok, I stopped by twice), the always fabulous Everyday Outfitters, and went sorting through the racks. This activity in itself is now new and exciting, as before sorting through the racks meant a way to pass time while skinnier friends and family actually tried on clothes from said rack. I was trying on some jeans and I mentioned I might want something special for spring break next week. So a few things were put in the dressing room, including a very short dress in size medium. MEDIUM. I am pretty sure I have never worn a medium. Now that’s not to say I have never been this small, because I have in college and high school. Medium? Not for me. They made me try it on anyway, and it actually FIT. It was surreal. But it made me wonder something. If I have been this weight before, why haven’t I worn a MEDIUM?
So I decided to take a little trip down Fashion Memory Lane. During the trip, I compiled so much evidence against myself that I came to 2 conclusions: 1. I should have been locked up in fashion jail for sure. 2. This is gonna have to be a miniseries post. 🙂
Taylor: What are you wearing? And where are you?
Me: It’s a jacket. It was raining a lot in Dallas that summer.
Taylor: Were you planning on becoming 300 pounds that summer?
And the plaid shorts– I am not 100% sure those were women’s shorts. I did wear a lot of men’s clothing junior and senior year of high school. I am pretty sure that could be one reason my boyfriend broke up with me.
The best part about this very tiny photo (and I cropped out the rest to protect the innocent, although it was pretty priceless) is that this was by far and away my favorite shirt senior year and into college. I wore it ALL THE TIME. Also a man’s shirt. Probably XL.
The sizing was certainly a continuous issue for me. Here I am about to go out socially. What else would a single girl wear on a night on the town? An XL T-shirt of course! With my hair pulled in a pony tail of course!
And lastly, just for shits and giggles, let’s compare my clothing to my father’s. He is a rather tall man, about 6’4″, so one may begin to wonder why we would wear the exact same clothing size. While I put on a few pounds senior year of college (thank you Tostitos Brand Queso, chipatis, and beer), I was still no means an XL. And it is XL. I mean look- my hand doesn’t even come out of sleeve!
I’m headed out to my parents’ house soon, where I am bound to find a treasure trove of cringeable fashion moments captured on film. You can look forward to more parts of this series soon! In the meantime, if you catch me outside my house in my hooded maternity sweatshirts, feel free to beat me unconscious and rip them off my body. Or something like that.