Malicious malevolent mall
Yesterday I went to the mall. With my kids.
I made this journey because I desperately needed a refill on the miracle-working Perricone skin care products that I’ve been using since January and because I also wanted a cute new spring top to wear tomorrow when I get together with some friends.
Simple, right? WRONG!
This trip totally reaffirmed all the truth that lies in this awesome post by Chicky Chicky Baby. My favorite part from this post: “The mall is a 21 year old girl with perfect highlights, high heels and perky boobs. She doesn't have Cheerios stuffed into her jacket pocket or graham cracker crumbs stuck to her sweater. She can try on a pair of pants without worrying if the material will stretch oddly over her saddle bags or if it will create an even larger muffin top. She doesn't cringe when she sees what the harsh lights do to the cellulite on her legs or the bags under her eyes. She doesn't stand in front of the mirror - while her toddler runs around behind her wielding a clothes hanger like a weapon.”
Truer words, my friend.
Have you ever tried to maneuver a Graco double stroller through Sephora? It’s nearly fucking impossible. The aisles are narrow and lined with all sorts of messy, irresistible goodies right at child level. Peanut came out of there looking like a neophyte clown on her first day of “makeup application class.” She’d reach out with her hands and run her fingers through whatever sample happened to be within reach and then smear it on her face regardless of whether it was blush or lip gloss or bright green eye shadow. Good shit.
Once she was cleaned up, it was time to look for a shirt. Despite my best efforts, I left the mall shirtless (well, you know—I had my original shirt on but had no luck finding a new one) and that can only be partly blamed on my kids since Loaf slept in the stroller most of the time we were there and Peanut was, for the most part, very agreeable and well behaved. (Except for the Sephora incident and when she pulled the hand off the mannequin at the Limited, which I promptly picked up and set on the table next to it before any of the size 2, 20-something sales people who were already giving my double stroller the evil eye could notice.)
But that’s not really the point. The point is, why is it so hard to find nice looking, not too over-the-top-trendy, comfortable, affordable clothing? If I needed work clothes, I would have been all set: there seemed to be an abundance of button-down, silky shirts that would look smart with a skirt or dress pants.
And if I needed going-out clothes, again no problem. You can’t swing a dead cat these days in the mall without hitting a funky little spaghetti-strapped tank top.
But I need something in the middle. Something that wear to my kid's school or the local grocery store. Something that I can throw on to look somewhat pulled together, but not overly dressed up when I take my kids to the park. Cute weekend clothes that I can wear when I meet a friend for lunch. Nothing too sexy or too dressy. Nothing that says, “Trying too hard,” or screams, “Look at that 37-year-old woman trying to look like she’s 22.” And on the flip side, nothing so frumpy it makes me look (or feel) 50.
I will admit, my jaunt through the mall was rushed because I knew the moment Loaf woke up the jig was up. So any suggestions on where to find the type of clothing I seek? Because I need a plan to whip that 21-year-old bitch known as The Mall into shape. It’s high time she stopped making the rest of us feel like shit.
I made this journey because I desperately needed a refill on the miracle-working Perricone skin care products that I’ve been using since January and because I also wanted a cute new spring top to wear tomorrow when I get together with some friends.
Simple, right? WRONG!
This trip totally reaffirmed all the truth that lies in this awesome post by Chicky Chicky Baby. My favorite part from this post: “The mall is a 21 year old girl with perfect highlights, high heels and perky boobs. She doesn't have Cheerios stuffed into her jacket pocket or graham cracker crumbs stuck to her sweater. She can try on a pair of pants without worrying if the material will stretch oddly over her saddle bags or if it will create an even larger muffin top. She doesn't cringe when she sees what the harsh lights do to the cellulite on her legs or the bags under her eyes. She doesn't stand in front of the mirror - while her toddler runs around behind her wielding a clothes hanger like a weapon.”
Truer words, my friend.
Have you ever tried to maneuver a Graco double stroller through Sephora? It’s nearly fucking impossible. The aisles are narrow and lined with all sorts of messy, irresistible goodies right at child level. Peanut came out of there looking like a neophyte clown on her first day of “makeup application class.” She’d reach out with her hands and run her fingers through whatever sample happened to be within reach and then smear it on her face regardless of whether it was blush or lip gloss or bright green eye shadow. Good shit.
Once she was cleaned up, it was time to look for a shirt. Despite my best efforts, I left the mall shirtless (well, you know—I had my original shirt on but had no luck finding a new one) and that can only be partly blamed on my kids since Loaf slept in the stroller most of the time we were there and Peanut was, for the most part, very agreeable and well behaved. (Except for the Sephora incident and when she pulled the hand off the mannequin at the Limited, which I promptly picked up and set on the table next to it before any of the size 2, 20-something sales people who were already giving my double stroller the evil eye could notice.)
But that’s not really the point. The point is, why is it so hard to find nice looking, not too over-the-top-trendy, comfortable, affordable clothing? If I needed work clothes, I would have been all set: there seemed to be an abundance of button-down, silky shirts that would look smart with a skirt or dress pants.
And if I needed going-out clothes, again no problem. You can’t swing a dead cat these days in the mall without hitting a funky little spaghetti-strapped tank top.
But I need something in the middle. Something that wear to my kid's school or the local grocery store. Something that I can throw on to look somewhat pulled together, but not overly dressed up when I take my kids to the park. Cute weekend clothes that I can wear when I meet a friend for lunch. Nothing too sexy or too dressy. Nothing that says, “Trying too hard,” or screams, “Look at that 37-year-old woman trying to look like she’s 22.” And on the flip side, nothing so frumpy it makes me look (or feel) 50.
I will admit, my jaunt through the mall was rushed because I knew the moment Loaf woke up the jig was up. So any suggestions on where to find the type of clothing I seek? Because I need a plan to whip that 21-year-old bitch known as The Mall into shape. It’s high time she stopped making the rest of us feel like shit.
posted by Kimberly at
3:10 PM
3 Comments:
I'm with you. I need clothes that I can wear to playgroup that don't make me look like a sack of potatoes. I'm starting to think they don't exist and I'll have to embrace my inner spud.
And thanks for the kind words!
Dios Mio, I feel like that and I don't have a freakin' stroller. You get the funny looks over 30 whether you have it or not.
Thankfully, we've pretty much gotten over the body issues by now, while they're still pulling their shirts down over their beer bellies and hanging wide belts on their muffin tops.
I find good luck with grown-up looking T-shirts from Christopher and Banks. Some of them are too old-lady/preschool teacherish, but I almost always find something I like buried in the clearance rack.
- from Jo Ann (I don't remember my Google login, but didn't want to post completely anonymously)
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