Skinny B**ch

I’m probably not going to garner a lot of sympathy from this post. But it’s my bloggy and I’ll cry if I want to.

I’m back from Kohl’s, aggrivated as usual. Why?

Because I’m thin.

Thin, slim, slender, skinny. I swear they’re cutting clothes bigger because I’m not much thinner than I was about 5 years ago, and 5 years ago I was a size 6. Now, depending on the make and manufacturer of the clothing, I waver between a size 2 and 4.

Try shopping at Kohl’s when you’re a size 2 or 4. Approach a rack of clothing and start flipping through the hangers: 10, 12, 14, 14, 6, 14, 14, 8, 16, 10, 8, 10, 10, 10, 6. Oh wait, 4!! A 4!!! Grab that hanger, check the actual label, can it be? Nope…it’s a size 12 on the size 4 hanger. I LOVE that.

Ah, here’s a size 4 pair of shorts, let’s try those on. No, they are bagging in the ass and sliding off my hips. It’ll have to be a 2. 2? Anywhere a 2? In the entire store, is there a size 2?

Fat chance.

What if I look in the Petite Department? OK, a couple of size 2s, but the main point of the Petite Department is to clothe women who are height-challenged. I’m 5′ 8″. They fit my body but they are too short.

How about shirts, I wear an S (small). Let’s see….M, M, M, L, L, L, XL, XL, XL, XXL, XXL, XXL, XL, XL, M, L, M, L…..it’s like a sea of Roman numerals.

I HATE SHOPPING!!!!!!

OK, I’m done now.

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