Today My Skirt is Splitting
Today my skirt is splitting up the back. The seam is slowly wearing down and the herring bone is turning from black and white to grey. Someone told me, but there is nothing I can do about it. That's what I get for getting a five dollar dress, right? "You have a big butt." she said, but she smiled widely in the way black women do as if to say I knew there was something I liked about you.
It happened to me once before a woman said "oh you got fat legs." She was joyous. "I thought you were a skinny-winny, but you got fat legs." It took me more than a moment to realize that there were differences in our culture and that "fat legs" were not an insult but a even, in this case, a compliment.
There is a professional clothing drive and the woman who noticed my spitting seam gave me a pair of shoes out of her bag for the poor. The pathetic charity case in suite 202. I should feel terrible, but they are Coach shoes and somehow I don't feel too terrible. It was kind of cute how she wanted me to have it more than another stranger. She told me to hide them under my desk. I bent down to hide them behind my waste paper basket, and felt my round body get rounder and press against my restricting worn out clothes.
I think all of this is an indicator: I need to buy actual work clothes (preferably ones that don't look stupid with a denim jacket and i don't feel like a dufus in) I probably need to purchase an iron (and actually committ to ironing and hanging my clothes up instead of leaving them in baskets). I need to go to the gym more(maybe less candy and beer).
Today my skirt is splitting up the back. The seam is slowly wearing down and the herring bone is turning from black and white to grey. Someone told me, but there is nothing I can do about it. That's what I get for getting a five dollar dress, right? "You have a big butt." she said, but she smiled widely in the way black women do as if to say I knew there was something I liked about you.
It happened to me once before a woman said "oh you got fat legs." She was joyous. "I thought you were a skinny-winny, but you got fat legs." It took me more than a moment to realize that there were differences in our culture and that "fat legs" were not an insult but a even, in this case, a compliment.
There is a professional clothing drive and the woman who noticed my spitting seam gave me a pair of shoes out of her bag for the poor. The pathetic charity case in suite 202. I should feel terrible, but they are Coach shoes and somehow I don't feel too terrible. It was kind of cute how she wanted me to have it more than another stranger. She told me to hide them under my desk. I bent down to hide them behind my waste paper basket, and felt my round body get rounder and press against my restricting worn out clothes.
I think all of this is an indicator: I need to buy actual work clothes (preferably ones that don't look stupid with a denim jacket and i don't feel like a dufus in) I probably need to purchase an iron (and actually committ to ironing and hanging my clothes up instead of leaving them in baskets). I need to go to the gym more(maybe less candy and beer).
posted by j-e-s-s-i-c-a at 2:24 PM
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