Shopping Horrors – a random ramble

31st March 2016

What a depressing experience shopping for clothes is.  First the minefield of which is the appropriate shop for a woman of a my age to frequent.  Top Shop and New Look seemingly being aimed at a teenage clientele who don’t wear what I would recognise as clothes but merely a few wisps of material.   BHS and Marks and Spencer feeling like they are aimed at the more mature customer (hopefully I have a few years before I hit that!).  More than once I have had the experience of admiring the same item of clothing as someone who then turns around and reveals herself to be of pensionable age.  Then the puzzle of what to wear, I am not ready for matronly dresses and high necklines, nor do I favour a skirt so short that it shows off more of me than my gynaecologist would normally see.
On my most recent shopping trip I was looking for trousers suitable for work, ie smart and black, and also a pair of  jeans.  The first problem I encountered was deciphering the different types of jeans available to me.  From skinny fit to straight leg to bootcut to jeggings to boyfriend fit to mum fit.  What do they all mean?  No good looking at the photos either as how they look on a sixteen year old bears no relation to how they will look once I try them on – a slightly (cough) overweight mum of two teenagers who really has a poor idea of what suits.   I always find that clothes in different shops fit wildly differently. I will go to one shop and find there is no way that my generously proportioned thighs will look like anything other than denim covered overstuffed sausages and yet the waist gapes so much a passing builder could mistake me for his workmate if I was to bend down.

After several hours of moving between shops, tears (from me and my teenage sons, reduced to following me around with the promise of burgers and chips), multiple visits to changing rooms, at some of which I am sure I could hear sniggers from the teenage clothes horses employed to give out the plastic tags denoting how many items I had a vain hope of fitting into, I eventually found a pair that fitted and I liked enough to buy.  They were the aforementioned mom jeans.  No, I still don’t know what that means but I have had them for a week now and although the waist rivals something Simon Cowell might wear they are an incredibly comfortable pair of jeans.  Such a shame I couldn’t find the trousers too…

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