Fitting Room Claims Another Victim

It’s time to end the madness. I’m talking to you, retailers. You stores w/ your big fancy mirrors and dim lighting that make you think, “Wow, I really can pull off a peasant top.” No, no you can’t.

A Gap outlet just opened near us. I was skeptical at first, but my cynicism vanished when I walked in and saw that it was a real outlet; not one of those fake-outs that tack the word “outlet” on the end of their name but don’t do any price slashing (cough cough, American Eagle, cough cough).

40% off dresses? 60% off yoga pants? Buy-one-get-one sweaters?! I was in heaven (and my boyfriend, who I dragged there with me, was in hell).

I see cardigans on sale for $15. I NEED a new white cardigan. I really do. The one I have is only 3-quarter sleeves, which doesn’t cut it in the winter months. And it’s a little tight in the armpits. And forget about buttoning it over my boobs.

I haven’t shopped at Gap in forever, so I don’t even know what my size is. I grab a medium and pull it on over my shirt. I model it for my sister, who says it’s cute enough. I wear it around the store while I shop the clearance rack (clearance rack at an outlet? Bomb dot com). I find a super cute shirt. It’s a sleeveless peplum tank in light pink with white swirls. It’s way too classy for me, which is why I must own it immediately.

In the dressing room, I’m a vision. I love the top by itself. I layer the cardigan over it and love it even more. I do a victory dance before I change back into my shirt and head to the check-out.

Last week I’m getting ready for the rehearsal dinner for a wedding B’s in. I remember my new white cardi and pull it on over my dress. Oh. Dear. The cardigan hangs off me in an unflattering way. I button a button or two, push the sleeves up my arms, snap a few more buttons; anything in an attempt to not look pregnant. I end up wearing my go-to white cardigan. Good thing it wasn’t cold at the dinner and I didn’t want to button it up or anything #stillbitter #getoverit

Last night I return the sweater. I want to exchange it out for a smaller size, but they don’t have any left in stock. Too many smart bitches who know their size shop there, I guess.

This morning I remember the top and how ravishing I looked in the dressing room. Nothing could make this top look bad, right?

I think you know where I'm going w/ this. Too bad I already cut the tags off. At least I have a new go-to shirt for Mondays and fat days.