There are a few things on my "Avoid at all Cost" list. Putting my hand in a fish tank full of piranhas, eating a 3-month old opened package of hot dogs, being blindfolded while crossing a busy intersection, and going underwear shopping.
Many times have I walked past a lingerie shop window, looking dreamily at the underwear on the mannequin. Sometimes when I am brave (because just that morning, I easily slipped into one of my sometimes-they-fit-me pair of pants), I boldly walk into the store and ask the shopkeeper to find my size. Okay, maybe I find my own size because I am too embarrassed to admit to someone else what exactly is my size.
As I walk to the change room, I have high hopes the underwear will make me look sleek, busty and beautiful, just like the super model pictured in the window.
First, while in the change room, I have to scrunch my own underwear to fit under the new underwear. This is especially hard if I am wearing my very ugly but very comfortable cotton-grandma-panties (only worn if my husband will not see me that day).
Second, I ignore the harsh and absolutely non-flattering lights that are located in the change room. I believe these lights were intentionally manufactured to zone in and pick up any microscopic flaw on the body.
Third, I look at myself with the underwear on. This is where things can get messy. Like many women, I have a love/ hate relationship with my body. I have had a pear-shaped body and cellulite on the backs of my legs since I was 13 years old. This means I have had 22 years to get used to the fact that I have a pear-shaped body and cellulite on the back of my legs.
"Underwear Shopping - Friend or Foe?" »