This week was a griiiiiiiiiiiind. To celebrate our survival, a friend and I made plans for dinner out and amazing reflexology foot massages last night. The good news and the bad news: the reflexology place couldn’t schedule us until 8:00 PM, so we decided to go shopping between leaving work and going to dinner to pass the time.
Ah, yes. I haven’t quite spent enough money recently. 😉 (At least it was pay day! [?])
Incidentally, this is the same friend who was with me for haircuts, food, and shopping months ago when I was at the nervous beginning of my mission. Back then, there was scarcely anything I could fit into in mainstream stores, so I picked up one shirt that looked pretty and bought it without trying it on, hoping to fit into it eventually. (Update: I shrank into it for the summer season, and it now hangs off me. Mini-mission accomplished!) Last night, as is my new normal in clothing stores, I could not be stopped. Hey, it was all 60% off, why not go hard? However, my mentality was to buy a few items not for the current season — I have too much already that’s not going to fit come fall — but for the start of the next cold season. I shared this with my friend, who thought it was a great idea. We then awayed to the dressing rooms.
I ended up finding a pair of pants in a color I’ve never worn pants in before, eggplant purple. The flaw in choosing pants for next year is that you actually have no idea what that size will be. It’s more complicated with numbers like 10, 12, 14, 16, than it is with sizes S, M, L, XL. So, I went ahead for the purple pants (OMG! I have purple pants!) one size down from what I’m currently wearing, figuring that I’ll fit into them before this season is over and could even get away with them into the spring, given the PURPLE factor. Have I mentioned that these pants are PURPLE?! They’re PURPLE.
Things hit a snag in the sweater department. I’ve been rocking size XL on top at this particular store since the time I started being able to wear their clothing, so I took a size L into the dressing room to try and gauge whether it was the right size to get for next year by seeing how tight on me it was in the present. A strange thing happened: it fit right. I explained this to my friend when we popped out of our dressing rooms for each other’s approval on what we were trying on, and I got to utter the phrase, “Maybe I should get a medium.”
I have not owned anything with “M” on the tag since elementary school. That’s no joke. I’ve never had mediums hanging in my closet as an adult. And that means that I have never actually bought anything size medium for myself.
As I picked up the size medium at the sweater display, this all hit me, and I thought, “What am I doing? This sweater might still be all wrong on me in a medium come fall or winter. Maybe I should just save my money.” Then, I had to cross-check myself on that and thought, “I’m just freaking out because I’ve never bought anything medium before. I like this sweater and it looks good on me. I need to just buy it.” But I couldn’t decide which argument was right, so I put the sweater back and I stood frozen beside the table of sweaters, holding onto a pair of purple pants and wearing a look of total confusion. I bet that didn’t look crazy at all.
Finally, my friend emerged from the dressing room, and I told her I needed her brain: do I buy the sweater in the smaller size on the risk that it won’t actually fit or look right on some frame I can’t really predict 10 months from now, or save my money in the present and get a sweater I know fits when I actually am whatever size I will be 10 months from now? She made a face, said a few things about how the sweater wasn’t form-fitting, she really liked the color and how it looked on me, and how I was showing some uncharacteristic nerves or doubt by putting the sweater back. She finished with, “I think that’s a piss-poor reason not to get it.” So I picked it back up and took it directly to the register.
I love my friends.
I love my purple pants.
I love my medium sweater.