Sometimes the cuntree mouse ventures into the city. My friend Gita and I decided to go shopping in Boston, an act I have not done in over 3 years. When I lived in NYC I kinda gave a shit what I wore, but now that I live amongst the trees and chicken shit, I don’t really think it matters if my outfit clashes. Especially in a place where the only online dating site that is advertised on television is “farmersonly.com.”
The other element that has been impeding my fashion choices these days is my attachment comfort. It is hard to prioritize a really cute pair of pants that ride up my ass to the point of creating a canyon between my cheeks, or shoes that feel like foot binding. I kind of would rather wear a fleece onsie.
So when I was trying on “skinny jeans” today that were supposed to make me look….ummmm skinny I guess… I couldn’t get over how restrictive they felt.
Toni: “Are you sure these are the right size?”
Sales girl: “Yeah…. Totally”
Toni: “Do you have them a size bigger.”
Sales girl: “Yeah…. Totally. But those are totally the right size.”
Toni: “There are just so tight around the waist.”
Sales girl: “Yeah.”
Toni: “Its just that I am used to wearing maternity jeans. In fact those are the only jeans I wear these days. They have this roomy elastic waistband that is stretchy and without buttons to constrict your flesh.”
Sales girl: “OH when did you have your baby?”
Toni: “3-years ago.”
Sales girl: “Ummm seriously dude. Buy those jeans.”