Last spring, my daughters and I walked into an unexpected and fabulous sale at a small boutique. We found baby-blanket-soft dresses for $20, swim suits extraordinaire, and sweaters for $10. I also found an ultra-soft, small checked, pencil skirt with embroidered-looking roses. With the $10 coral colored sweater, it was an outfit tres chic.
There was only one problem: the skirt was a little tight; but I loved it so much, I envisioned it as my first day back-to-school outfit and surely the summer months of never ending outdoor exercise and abundance of watermelon and garden vegetables, come fall, I would slide into that skirt like a second skin.
But summer has been an abundant adventure filled with French food and tasty ice-cream. It's also been a summer of writing research papers, entire days of reading historical documents, made easier while indulging in a soothing bowl of potato chips with a side of peanut butter cookies. And then there was my daughter's visit with her husband who loves to bake. Many slices of pumpkin and oreo-chocolate cake, pizza and root beer floats later, I stared at the pencil skirt hanging like an enemy in the closet battlefield. I pulled it off the hanger. Slipped it on. It zipped almost all the way to the top. The corners hugged.
If I really wanted to...
I could, yet, it would make an extremely embarrassing story for me if that too-tight skirt kept me from bending over to pick up my dropped glasses.
Teachers shouldn't wear tight skirts as much as they shouldn't wear tight shirts.
My vision of a classy first day appearance in new skirt and sweater is fading. Fast.
I violated my own code of ethical shopping: only buy clothes that fit. Now, the question is: is the skirt motivation enough to sacrifice the pleasures of the palette? We'll see how powerful the subconscious will is on this one--how bad she wants to fit in this skirt.
There was only one problem: the skirt was a little tight; but I loved it so much, I envisioned it as my first day back-to-school outfit and surely the summer months of never ending outdoor exercise and abundance of watermelon and garden vegetables, come fall, I would slide into that skirt like a second skin.
But summer has been an abundant adventure filled with French food and tasty ice-cream. It's also been a summer of writing research papers, entire days of reading historical documents, made easier while indulging in a soothing bowl of potato chips with a side of peanut butter cookies. And then there was my daughter's visit with her husband who loves to bake. Many slices of pumpkin and oreo-chocolate cake, pizza and root beer floats later, I stared at the pencil skirt hanging like an enemy in the closet battlefield. I pulled it off the hanger. Slipped it on. It zipped almost all the way to the top. The corners hugged.
If I really wanted to...
I could, yet, it would make an extremely embarrassing story for me if that too-tight skirt kept me from bending over to pick up my dropped glasses.
Teachers shouldn't wear tight skirts as much as they shouldn't wear tight shirts.
My vision of a classy first day appearance in new skirt and sweater is fading. Fast.
I violated my own code of ethical shopping: only buy clothes that fit. Now, the question is: is the skirt motivation enough to sacrifice the pleasures of the palette? We'll see how powerful the subconscious will is on this one--how bad she wants to fit in this skirt.
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