Last week we had an 80 degree day. It’s back to 50 now, so let’s not get excited, but this is how Ohio works.
Dick teasing us with moments of warmth and sun, only to pull out at the exact moment you consider packing your winter coat away.
The warm weather was lovely, but it was also a stern reminder I am just not ready. I don’t want to shave above my knees yet. I don’t want to put deodorant under my boobs yet. I don’t want to embrace a Kid Rock Miley Cyrus Katy Perry song of the summer yet.
But I am ready to grill meat and stop having school drop off car line rage.
Wait, what’s that? You’re getting out of your car? Where are you going? You going in the school? Hey, what you’re looking for is called a parking spot. It’s still made of road, but it has stripes on it to direct you where you can stop and leave your car for an indefinite amount of time YOU SELFISH MOTHERFUCKER I WILL EAT YOUR FACE OFF.
So obviously, I’m conflicted about summer.
But, seasonal acceptance or not, I had to start preparing in the clothing department, so last Thursday I tricked Andy and Gigi into going out to lunch with me, by way of Gap, Old Navy, Target and Lane Bryant. You might think going clothes shopping alone would be easier, and in theory it is, but there’s something very Romeo & Juliet about seeing my husband slumped over the bench outside my fitting room holding my purse and a bored three year old; optimistic as I entered the room with twelve items, only to see me hand eleven of them back to the attendant.
Come on, what are you looking for, this is taking forever.
A fedora… like a top hat?
A top hat?
A Monopoly guy hat or a Sherlock Holmes hat, because I don’t know that either of those would look good on you?
It’s neither of those things, and I can’t believe you just called me ugly in hats after I just spent 20 minutes in there having body dysmorphia break downs while trying on shorts.
I dropped Andy and Gigi off to have lunch while I did the rest of my shopping solo.
Old Navy had some super cute fedoras, but they were tiny. Like, they probably used 9 month olds as their fit model. Same with Gap. I don’t like to label my head as “fat,” but I’m starting to think I have a super obese hair part that’s preventing me from living out this One Direction fashion dream.
By the time I reached Target, I had all but given up, and planned to use the remaining alone time eating Australian licorice in the face cream aisle, when I walked past display of hats, and decided to give it one more go.
Naturally, I had to first try on the hemp old lady visors and fringey cowboy hats, should I ever find myself drunk in a saloon with a mechanical bull just begging for me to go all Sissy from Urban Cowboy on it. And when I got to the fedoras, and one finally slipped on my head in a very not entirely Bruno Mars more like a sultry Mary Kate and Ashley in the Hamptons fashion, for $12, I had to buy it.
And for that one day, I dressed like summer.
I really, really love this jersey maxi dress, even though it’s a touch long on me (and in the pouring rain, holding it up got a little annoying, but whatever). The dress, itself, is pretty shapeless, so I relied on my boobs and hips to fill it out. Shapewear helped smooth things out a bit, as well. I usually only gravitate toward v-neck tops, but this lower rounded neck was actually flattering on me. In short, this dress looked like shit on the hanger, but after trying it on, I own it in three colors.
If you want to hear me talk more about my fedora related teen angst, check out last week’s episode of Last Call Brittany.