You thought you were a size 8...hahaha.
You just march right back out there and grab that 10, and maybe the 12 too. Just to be sure.
I can just feel the sales associate's eyes on me, as I do the scurry of shame out of the dressing room in my socks for my progressively larger sizes.
I want to shout, "Yes I had a baby. I have back fat, thigh cheese and thick ankles. Do you have a cut that matches that description, because I don't think your curvy line is quite cutting it."
Dressing room after depressing dressing room....I finally found them.
In New York and Company of all places. I have never shopped there before but this wayward traveler was ready to try anything. Come to find out, they have some pretty cute things and some good deals to boot.
The Curvy (naturally) Boot cut. Fit like a glove. A big glove, but a glove. I think they are pretty cute too, not mom-ish in the least. No taper here, no acid wash, no holiday embellishments (as I once saw a lady with a sequin snow man on her butt). I think I did pretty well for myself, the rise is pretty high which holds in all the bits that need holding. I don't think low-rise jeans are anywhere in my immediate future. The contrasting stitching also sort of stirs the lust in my heart for a great pair of cowboy boots (or cowgirl boots, as the case may be). I have always wanted a pair, but them are expensive!
I want you to know that those shoes haven't seen the light of day in years. I busted them out because I love y'all so much. In my younger, wilder days of yore they used to be part of my 'bar uniform'. You know, the one seen across college campuses nationwide. Jeans, cute top, heels, man-hungry look in the eyes. You've seen it, trust me.
I better go vacuum my house now. Michael's dad and sister are coming for Thanksgiving, and I just saw a ball of cat fir blow across the hallway like a tumbleweed.
Moms don't have bar uniforms...just in case you were wondering.