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Dressing Like My Mom

I can’t decide if I like it. “It” being the style of blouse my mom wore back in the 70’s. Yep, I grew up in the 70’s with a working (outside of the house) mom. You may know the style of blouse I’m talking about…the silky work blouses with the neck bow.

Well I wore one. And I kind of liked it.

But the reason I liked may have secretly been because I felt strong like my mom always looked. But without the large gold plated jewelry while walking across shag carpet (not a euphemism).

– Post From My iPhone

Drink from my Bosom

I love gifts. Any kind. Any reason. Any occasion. So when I got to work one morning and discovered a cute little gift bag on my desk, I was so excited. It was a surprise. It was not the day I blessed my parents with my presence in the world, it wasn’t the day baby Jesus was born, it wasn’t the day my divorce was final. It was just an ordinary day.

I eagerly opened the bag and tore off the tissue paper. This is what I discovered…

Turns out someone I work with brought me a gift all the way from Hawaii. This person knew of my coconut obsession which would explain the gift. However I wonder if they were aware of my other obsession…boobs. Well not any boobs. Just mine.

Would it be rude to ask for bigger coconuts and a grass skirt? The sexy coconut device is better suited for a B/C cup plus I’ll need a grass skirt to make the outfit complete. Or better yet, I won’t risk being rude and I’ll use them as two giant pina colada cups. Umbrella straws anyone?

This Dress Keeps Me Honest

I have always been mindful of my weight. Duh. Who hasn’t?! The majority of us have clothes in many different sizes. Our bodies change, especially as we age. As a side note: if you’re a middle aged adult wearing the jeans you wore in high school, you may be thin but you have no style.

Most people monitor their weight using the standard measures. They don’t work for me. Here’s why:

The scale method. Sure I step on the scale every morning. But that piece of shit equipment has been known to lie. It does! Let me prove it. My scale weight DOES NOT match the stated weight on my driver’s license. And we all know the DMV doesn’t lie.

The friend tactic. I ask girlfriends if they have noticed me plumping up. They always say no. They have a motive to lie. Hell, they want me around mostly for my unlimited wine supply. Plus they also want me to get fat so they continue to look skinnier. Bitches. I need new friends.

The jean approach. This method involves trying on a fitted pair of jeans. The fit of these jeans are perfect when you’re at your goal weight, so you keep the jeans as your measure. If they are tight, you’re fat OR they shrunk. But I’ve outsmarted that approach. Trick here is to wear your jeans, then wash them and DON’T dry them. Every time you wear them they stretch just a little more. Soon a size 4 will be a size 10.

I monitor my weight but I’m forced to use untraditional methods since it is clear that the above approaches don’t work for my wise little big ass.

I have a dress. The dress isn’t made of stretchy material. It is fitted. And when I wear it to work I am forced to wear it all day long. So when it feels snug, I am required to face the truth. And the truth makes me do crazy things…like eat a salad for lunch.

Here’s the dress.
Disregard the sign on my ass.
If you must know, it is a reserved sign.