Yesterday I put on a white polo shirt and everything was pretty "B.A.U." as work seems to describe it. (Business As Usual for the acronym-challenged.)
As I walked up to my reclining husband to interrupt his usual Twittering and FBing to steal a kiss, he said, "Hey, your shirt has a tear in it."
"WHAT???" I blurted out. When I looked down, there it was. A huge rip across the area that would expose my areola had it not been covered by a bra.
My first immediate thought was, "Dammit. Now I have to go shopping for more shirts." Not that I don't enjoy shopping; it's fun! I just don't enjoy shopping when I'm fat. And lately, I've been fat.
But this leads me to my title and my wardrobe waves. I end up getting new clothes for one of three reasons:
- Mom gets me stuff she sees on sale. Usually she is spot on with stuff that is professional. However, this last time was a flop. I can't bring myself to even think about wearing it. It's a red 3/4th sleeved sweater with Scottie terriers on it. It either screams "old lady" or "elementary school teacher" to which I am neither.
- I gain or lose weight.
- Wardrobe malfunctions (as described above).
This means I need to be more proactive about my shopping. Ultimately, whether I am big or small is inconsequential if I only have 3 pairs of pants to wear for work. So I need to make it a goal to visit DSW at least every month and DIllard's or some other similar store every 2 weeks. I have to start replacing some of my old threads.
Which makes me wonder; I wore that shirt to work last week. Did it have the rip then? Only my coworkers know the answer to that one.
