i went shorts shopping yesterday.
and, fed up with being forced to choose between ribcage-hugging grandma delux and the cellulicious thigh display, i decided to check out the men's department. after all, i like cargo pants.
my shopping mate was my husband, dually qualified because: 1: he wears men's shorts. 2: he thinks i look hot in anything.
the chronicles of narnia action scene music provided an inspiring soundtrack for our adventurous mood. first we hit levi's, where we somehow ended up in the back, looking at boy's pants. confused, our confidence slightly eroded, we left. next joel suggested eddie bauer. no comment.
we drove to zumiez on joel's suggestion we try a "skater-ish"store.
have you ever been inside zumiez? just because i'm looking for boy's shorts does not mean i'm a "skulls and plaid" kind of girl.
desperate, hot, and hungry, we stopped at pacsun for a last ditch try. (clarifying, i hadn't actually tried on anything at this point.) i marched past the tiny, perfectly dressed faux-surfer girls and picked out a likely pair of floppy tan cargos with a useless striped belt.
once in the dressing room, i realized that i shouldn't have taken my darling husband's word on the size. the dear man forgot that i have hips. after [ahem] a number of size trials, i settled on something i could live with. i won't be sharing that size, since i'd rather not have my hips compared to those of my readership's skinny husbands.
overall, i consider my first experience shopping for men's clothes a smashing success. i doubt if i'll be going back to women's shorts anytime soon. i just have to keep reminding myself that the little number isn't
really my waist size....