I just got back from getting measured for my dress and putting down a down payment.

Sigh.

Why do we do this to ourselves? I went in, put the sample dress on, and it fit perfectly. I realized that I had emailed out pictures of the wrong dress. Whoops. Both are very similar. I felt great in my dress, what a beautiful outfit.

But then (cue music from the movie Halloween) came the dreaded measuring.

Standing there in my skivvies, it occurred to me that maybe I should not have given up exercise so entirely for the last 6 months. They take 4 measurements, the last one being from the notch in the throat to the floor. All the better to show off the fact that I haven't had a pedicure since ... um...

Anyway, the woman who was working with me told me that she thought the dress I had on fit very well, and recommended that I order that one. However my measurements were just a touch outside of the standard range. Ok, no problem I was good with that. First she told me the chest measurement. I felt pretty smug when she told me what size it corresponded to.

"Ha!" I thought to my self with an internal sneer "Not bad for a couch potato"

Then she told me the waist measurement and the size it corresponded to. One size larger than the chest. The internal sneer turned into an internal Marge Simpson "Hmmmmmmmm"

Then she told me the hip size, which is one size larger than the waist size, and a size that I have never put on my body. Apparently I'm a triangle wearing the wrong size clothes.

Then I paid the nice lady, and slunk out before anyone could see me by light of day.

I went home and took Freddie for a run. Think I'll have a few crackers for dinner and see if the home shopping network is selling diet pills.

(I'm kidding about the last 2 sentences, I promise)
cb
- posted by cam @ 6:10 PM