Subourbon Mom


Stop Hiding Me Behind My Clothes
December 8, 2022, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts, shopping | Tags: , , , , , ,

Aaahhh..the holidays are here! Mariah Carey is screeching away in every store and the taste of panic-buying is in the air. You know what that means – sales.  Every day my inbox is flooded with exclamation points and percentages. Are the deals great?  Absolutely. They’ve even enticed me to crack open my dusty wallet. This year I decided it is time to buy some new clothes that don’t scream “I WORK FROM HOME AND JOGGERS ARE MY WAY OF LIFE.”

For those of you who know me personally, you know I’m not a big shopper. In fact, I frequently buy clothing sets off store mannequins because I suck at putting outfits together. I’ve been known to walk into a store, touch one item and run out because I’m so overwhelmed. So, when I decide to shop for clothes, this is not a decision I make lightly.

And here is where the first-world problems rant begins.  

When did retail clothing stores start ignoring the middle-aged woman demographic?

I’m a pretty regular size, and I used to be able to get cute clothes from stores that cater to the younger (30’s) set as well as the older (50s+) set. They were trendy, fit well and even had the right shape.

Maybe my expectations are off base, but I can’t seem to find any stores that cater to the middle-class, middle-size, middle-trendy woman anymore. It’s all either too young (for women whose boobs are still somewhere near where they’re supposed to be and the menopausal muffin top is still non-existent) or they are for the older female crowd that just wants to hide everything under a square shirt that hangs to the knees or beneath long sweaters called dusters. 

Side note: If you’re a store mannequin dresser (is there a real job title for that?), please stop pulling the backs of the shirts together with a clip so it looks like the mannequins have a waist.  If you have to do that, stop ordering square shirts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried one on after seeing it there and walked out of the dressing room in a small tent.

I used to love Target, but don’t get me started on Target’s recent stylistic choices. I don’t want to live on the set of Little House on the Prairie or look like I sew my own clothes.

At the mall by my house, since the stores catering to younger women are now out of the question, I’m left trying to decide if I want to go classic square shirt and duster from J.Jill,  blingy square shirt and duster from Chico’s, or “I’m in my late 60’s and have a shit ton of money to spend” in Soft Surroundings.

The only store that still works for me is Loft. Does everything fit me? No. Is some of it too young? Yes. But I can still find work and casual clothes there that don’t break the bank, and that last longer than H&M’s one season wonders.

Since vitamin/supplement companies are finally realizing menopausal women are a real demographic (watch any middle-aged woman’s TikTok feed and see how many Provitalize ads come up), maybe clothing retailers should, too. Just because we need a better bra these days and jeans with that extra inch, retailers need to know that middle-aged women haven’t given up. We’re still trying to impress our partners, and, honestly, other women – but more importantly, we’re not hiding ourselves away from the world.  In fact, many of us are feeling more like our true selves than ever before.

Maybe, if clothes could be designed around what we look like now, not the past or the future, we wouldn’t spend so much on supplements and retailers could take advantage of that revenue.

So, there you have it – the gauntlet has been thrown – someone needs to design clothes for middle-of-the-road, middle-aged women that reflect who we are now, that don’t make us look like we’re trying to hard or that we’ve given up, and that don’t break the bank.  

And by the way, if you’re a woman who loves the stores I’ve just crapped all over, please keep patronizing them. We all have to shop where we are comfortable. I just haven’t found more than one place that meets my shopping needs and I’m grumpy.



Did You Find Your Underwear?

Ummm…yeah…that was a question somebody asked me at work.

Lately I’ve had a few cringe-worthy moments, but the worst was a couple of weeks ago in the cube farm as I tried in vain to figure out why the underwear I had ordered from Amazon was apparently in shipping’s no-man’s land.

Wait, you ask… You ordered your underwear from Amazon?

That’s right bitches, I had to order my undies from Amazon because my regular suppliers apparently don’t carry it anymore.  And no, I wasn’t trying to buy any Victoria’s Secret lacy, scratchy-but-so-sexy-he-likes-it-so-I-guess -I’ll-get floss. I just wanted to get my fave jockey string bikinis, a.k.a. my Granny Panties, and Target, Kohls and Macy’s failed me.  I’m now down to 4 pairs, and each one has bare elastic at the waistband (bad enough that it’s actually irritating my skin). Even Daughter #2 recently threw a pair away while I was at work and sent me this text:

So, I finally gave in and ordered them from Amazon.

At my desk.

At work.

Let me tell you, it’s pretty embarrassing when:

  1.  You’re shopping for underwear at work;
  2.  The underwear you’re shopping for is cotton granny panties; and
  3.  Your co-workers happily stop by to chat and gleefully discover what kind of underwear you wear before you can clear your screen.

But that was just the beginning.  After seeing what was on the screen, co-worker Stacie asked, “Do you think maybe they didn’t send it because you’re not an 80-year-old woman?”

After I finally finished trying to justify why I was ordering underwear at work and why I like my comfy cotton Granny Panties instead of something sexier, I placed the order.  Of course, it has to be delivered to the office because Holly, the most expensive “free” dog in the world, has now destroyed over $700 worth of merchandise delivered to our house, including two prom dresses (see previous blog).

The package was due to arrive at the end of June. By the middle of July, no underwear in sight.

Between UPS, Amazon and Jockey, no one seemed able to find it. I had to figure out how to stalk Jockey (the seller), which required asking my cube neighbor Lacy for help. Then Hubby walked up (he works in the same office – no judging, please), followed by another co-worker Stacie, all of whom were very interested in the status of my underwear order.  So, there we were, all staring at the Amazon page displaying my pink and white Granny Panties as we tried to figure out the best way to find the package and get free stuff from Amazon.

Hubby, God Bless that man, didn’t even bother trying to persuade anyone that I wear other underwear (I do on special occasions).

I finally got my panties in a wad (c’mon, you knew I had to go there) and called Jockey, who of course didn’t have any record of receiving the order from Amazon.  So, I called Amazon.  All I can say is thank God it was a girl who answered.  Humiliation is having to clarify what the order was for to someone who clearly had never worn Granny Panties in her whole 20-year-old life; and then have her exclaim, “Oh, well at least the vendor was Jockey and not some random dude.”   Yeah sweetie – that’s where I’d choose to order my underwear from – some “random dude” on the internet.

In the end, I re-ordered, and after 4 weeks, I finally got my undies delivered (right to my desk).  Note the appalled look on the screen saver guy.

Undies1

Helpful Hints in Case This Happens to You:

  1. Don’t Google women’s underwear and think you’re going to not have creepy stuff come up on your screen
  2. Don’t get a dog that eats packages
  3. Don’t Google “missing underwear” – you’ll lose hours of your life reading weird articles
  4. Don’t click on random blog sites when Googling slang for underwear for your blog
  5. Don’t order your underwear at work (it’s frowned upon) – your IT guy might have something cheeky to say to you.

 

 

 




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