I just had the unfortunate experience of looking in my closet. Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows I am an anomaly of womanhood. I hate shopping for clothes and shoes. It all started with doing the chore of taking up my vacation laundry with the thought of putting everything away. This simple task snowballed into some pretty sad findings. This is the outcome of my findings.
You know you have no choice but to shop for clothing when:
Your newest pair of jeans is older than your oldest grandchild.
Your favorite black tee-shirt (dress, pants, etc.) is a surprising shade of ash gray.
Your “new” underwear was something your significant other brought home because “I saw you needed some.”
Many of your clothes came from your daughter who brought them home from a sample-sale job she had and got them free. Albeit beautiful and great, you were not required to try them on.
You are still wearing leggings from the first time the style was trendy.
Your favorite dress is something you bought from a discount department store’s clearance rack to wear to your youngest child’s middle-school graduation (age 13), and he just got married at age 26.
You have hose in your unmentionable drawer that date back to your 20th high-school reunion, and the 35th is coming up.
Your grown children feel the need to explain to everyone (especially their friends) that “my mom really loves the vintage look.”
You have to piece together an interview outfit because the original suits had pieces that had to be thrown out due to moth holes.
You realize you no longer have to find a good reason not to go to a family functions because you actually have one: they’ve seen you in all your clothing — several times over.
Your “new” bathing suit is circa 1990s. It still fits, still looks good, but really? (And the old one? Let’s not even go there.)
And last: The only reason your shoe racks are full is because you keep thinking, “Someday I might be able to wear those stilettos again.” And you wore those to your own college graduation in 1978.
Sigh. Didn’t I go through enough finding an appropriate mother-of-the-groom outfit?