Today’s going to be a bad day – I can feel it. I have a toothache. I made a pot of thin coffee that I had to dump and re-brew. And today is the day I figure out what I’m wearing to my 20th high school reunion this weekend. Yep, today is going to suck.
Problem #1 is that I hate to shop. In fact, twenty years ago I hated it. I’ve never been good at throwing together outfits while walking between rounders of clothes or digging through clearance racks so I just tend to buy and wear a lot of black.
I have picked up some tips along the way like how skinny pants are the anti-Christ and mom jeans should be banned from dresser drawers world wide. I certainly don’t have any shoulder pads sewn into my jackets and novelty sweaters marking whatever holiday is approaching haven’t crossed the threshold of my closet in years.
I am happy to report that I have finally figured out what to wear for my body type. I watch Oprah. I pay attention. I take notes. The problem isn’t what to wear, it’s where to buy what I’m supposed to wear. Clearly, problem #1 is the problem. I can’t buy what I need if I don’t shop for it.
Problem #2 lies in the fact that the malls in my hometown, well, they stink. Although one seems to be improving, the other has become a giant kiosk being inundated by the empire known around here as "Joe’s 66 Cents Store". Since Joe’s only serious competition is the fabulous, "As Seen On TV" store, I’m fairly certain that Joe’s takeover will be complete very soon. There is superb shopping about an hours drive down the road, but, you guessed it, problem #1 keeps me from jumping in the car and dedicating a day to retail therapy.
So I’ll dig through all of my black and come up with something. My toothache will keep me from overeating this Thanksgiving ensuring that I can actually fit into whatever I pack. And just for some insurance, I’ll bring along my senior yearbook from 1986. It’ll illustrate how much better I look now that I’m not sporting a permed mullet, blue mascara, jellies and an over-sized "FRANKIE SAY RELAX" T-shirt. In the end I will simply have to trust that not showing up with eyeliner boogers clogging my tear ducts will be enough to impress everyone.
Hmm…I think this could really work. I’ll keep you all posted.