She's a brick.....house....

Ok.. the Commodores weren't exactly lyrical geniuses... Here is a snippet of the lyrics to "Brickhouse"

"Ow she's a Brick-house,
She's mighty mighty,
Just lettin' it all hang out
She's a brick-house,
That lady's stacked,
And that's a fact,
Ain't holdin' nothin' back,
Ow she's a brick-house,
Well we're together everybody knows,
This is how the story goes...

She knows she's got everything,
That a woman needs, to get a man
How can she lose, with such a youth,
Thirty six, twenty four, thirty six,
What a winning hand!"

yeah... it just makes you feel warm and fuzzy, eh? Very romantic. When I think of being shaped like a brick house.. it doesn't inspire thoughts of 36-24-36.. i'm thinking more like 38-38-38... which is what brings me to the subject of this blog.

I'm back into that in-between awkward stage when no clothes fit me. When I was in my teens (and earlier).. I'd go into a dressing room with 30 pairs of jeans and was lucky if one... yes.. o-n-e.. fit right. Being fat changed all of this.. as soon as I hit a solid size 18W.. purchasing clothes got SO much easier.. my only problem was that I have no boobs.. and for some reason, clothes designers assume that a fat woman will have larger boobs. not me.

So I finally got to the point where I couldn't function in my old, larger, clothing. I could barely keep my jean shorts up yesterday.. they kept slipping over my hips. After a trip to the park, we decided to do some quick clothes shopping. I didn't want to buy anything too high end because I totally plan to be this size for a short period of time and would like to lose enough to get down another size bracket or two.. maybe wishful thinking.. but I don't want to blow a ton of money on clothes that may not fit again in a month.

Given my self-imposed monetary constraints.. we wound up at Target. Shiela took Ben and did some important shopping like picking up more toilet paper and a big jug of bubbles. I tried on clothes.

The selection I went into the change room with initially was about 50% women's clothing and 50% men's. The women's section had crap and I tend not to like a lot of the styles. As it turned out.. all of the clothes that I purchased were men's. For a very short moment, I felt stereotypically "gay".. oh yeah.. that's me.. the gender bending "dress like a guy" lesbo.

uh... no. that's NOT me. i'm a girl.. i like being a girl.. i just happen to be a tomboy, so I don't like lacy stuff and I am shaped like a BRICK (see song lyrics above with the disclaimer that the song is most definitely NOT about me.. the block of masonry is more what I'm comparing myself to...) I have no boobs.. no hips.. no butt.. and just a leftover flat tire that used to be my baby belly.

Men's clothes make sense. Your waist.. your inseam.. done. Pick a style.. and they are all there.. boot-cut, straight leg, relaxed fit, low rise, etc.. and just grab your size and guess what? it fits! The other issue with women's clothing is that they cut things weird.. I wanted a few polo shirts. Women's polo shirts have arms that are little puffy things that are cut too short on the underside.. so anyone that has any "i'm 33 and have lost 60 lbs" less than toned underarms are left to flop in the breeze. No.. I want regular short sleeves thank you. So back to the men's dept.

Don't even get me started on the shorts. I tried on ONE pair of women's shorts and didn't even zip them.. they made me look like a total dork. I went back to the men's.. picked the relaxed fit denim that i liked and grabbed my size.. given in inches, so i knew it would fit.. and it was fine. no daisy-duke shorts for jen.