Now, I know my blog is all about living the life of an average Jane (ha get it? Jane because I’m a girl instead of Joe? hehe) but sometimes I do actually have some
adventures crisis occur to me at least once a month (give or take).
So here it is!
Adventure Crisis Numero Uno!
I’m at the mall with Him and we decided to separate into our own little shopping niches (Him = EB Games and Me = Forever 21). I’m minding my own business, browsing and browsing when I come across the cutest top that I saw online the other day. I was so happy and excited that I actually found it that I immediately grabbed two (one in a size small and the other a size medium) this was my first mistake.
Before I go in to tell you what happened next I’m going to give you a little context. I am 5’8 and clock in around 150-155 pounds depending on the season. Anyways, I have wider shoulders a tiny waist and wide hips – I know, perfect hourglass shape right? Wrong. It just proves to be extra work and means I just can’t wear certain types of fabric that don’t have a little bit of stretch. It just doesn’t work out. Ever. I’m not sure why I thought it would this time but I was so hopeful!
Anyways, this shirt was essentially a pull-on quarter sleeved chiffon shirt. Total dream come true and would’ve looked amaazingg. I begin with the medium sized shirt – I’m not sure why I always pick up a small when I know that I absolutely won’t fit into it (I guess I’m just in denial about picking up a medium) but none the less, I did. But I’m about to put on the medium sized shirt when I realize that even before it’s actually on it’s a bit tight around the shoulders – this was my first red flag. I took the shirt off but looked at it and I had the biggest internal debate: what if it looks amazing?! I’ll never know if I don’t try it on! From this point, I completely convinced myself this was a good idea and once that shirt was on my body I immediately regretted it.
- The shirt fell at an awkward length – it fell a bit above the waist band of my jeans showing a little bit of my belly
- I go to take the shirt off and it. gets. stuck. WHAT?!
At this point, I try to wiggle myself out of this contraption of death but with no luck. I quickly (and stressily – which I know is not a word but completely explains my situation) assessed my options:
- I could continue to wiggle out and fail
- I could suck up my embarrassment and pride and ask the lady who ran the fitting rooms to help get this death trap off of me
- I could stress and stare at myself in the mirror wearing this shirt
- I could cry and repeat number 3
Needless to say I essentially did number 1, 3 and 4 before I shakily picked up my phone (thank god I had it with me or else I’d really be screwed!!) and dialled His number.
In short, He came to the rescue and pulled the shirt off by the sleeves through the top opening of the change room door (we got a fair warning that we couldn’t be in the change room together for obvious reasons).
I honestly never thought I’d be so relieved to be topless. Seriously.