liz_marcs (liz_marcs) wrote,
liz_marcs
liz_marcs

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Another Thing for the List of Stuff That Chubby Chicks Don't Do

Things that chubby chicks don't do:

  • Do an hour of cardio at the gym a day
  • Kayak, let alone kayak for 3 hours at a stretch
  • Swim (although I did find some lovely selections at JC Penny that fit, but it wasn't easy)


Let's add a new one: Go on job interviews that require clothes that don't look like they're made of cheap polyester or cut from the cloth of a circus tent.

You notice that list? It's getting awfully long.

It also appears, based on this list, that I can't possibly exist. I am the figment of someone's imagination. That's the only explanation I can come up with.

All I can say is: Thank God for Nordstrom's. They believe I exist, unlike every single store in the mall I visited today over a 3-hour period.



So, I had lunch with a friend to discuss the benefits of joining a professional organization, pricey though it may be, and would be infinitely helpful for landing a job.

After said lunch, I figured I better get some interview clothes that don't look out-of-date or that I only yank them out of my closet when I have a job interview. Some of those clothes, as high-end as they were when I bought them, look slightly threadbare.

So, I hied me off to Ye Old High-End Local Mall with Ye Old High-End stores.

Now, I don't have body dysmorphic disorder. I know what I look like when I look in the mirror. No illusions there. I also know my sizes.

This means that I knew going in that I was going to have a not-great time looking for clothes.

As bad as I expected it to be, it was worse. Oh, soooooooo much worse than even I, who was expecting awfulness, thought possible.

First stop? Lane Bryant. Obvious stop is obvious, yes?

Except Lane Bryant didn't have any half-way decent skirts or blouses. None. In fact, the skirts weren't even on the sales floor. The sales people had to go in back to get a basic black skirt. Worse, the skirts looked cheap. As in polyester cheap.

They had to have something else, right?

No. In fact, the sales girl (who was no skinny minnie either) kind of gave me the fish-eye and asked what kind of job I was going for. When I told her, her eyes bugged out of her head so far that I wanted to slap her.

Even in Lane Bryant, chubby chicks don't apply for good jobs. Jesus.

I thanked her for her time and headed off to Talbot's.

Talbot's didn't have anything vaguely skirt-like in the entire store. And their plus-size section? A horror. I tried looking in their regular sized section (I'm in an in-between size that can go either way depending on how the store divides the sizes), and everything was casual, casual, casual. No help at all.

What burned me was that the regular-sized Talbot's clothes were 1) a better quality and 2) Looked like something an actual human would wear. This is in sharp contrast to the plus-sized section.

Fine. Macy's it is.

One problem: Macy's hides the chubby chicks section. When you find said section, what do you get?

Circus tents and pants suits. I found one suit that looked tailored and would probably fit, but I couldn't find a top to go with it for love or money.

And have you asked the sales people for help in Macy's? Have you tried? I got a sniff, a pointed finger, and bored responses. And that's when I didn't get an "I don't know" or sent to a completely wrong section of the store.

I threw up my hands and tried JC Penny's. They had bathing suits that fit me just fine, they must have decent clothes right?

WRONG!

Once more, a horror of polyester, circus-tent clothes, or pants suits. I found some items that were at least passable in my size. One small problem: they didn't fit. Not a one. They either pulled in the wrong areas, made me look even chubbier than I actually am, or fit me like I was trying to squeeze into a dress that was two sizes too small.

What the ever-loving hell?

Now I'm desperate. It's been 3 hours of fruitless searching and trying on of things and I can't find anything that looks even passable for a job interview.

So it was in this frame of mind that I walked into Nordstrom's. Yes, expensive. Very expensive, but the no choice-ness of the situation drove me there.

I walked into the women's section, and a sales person actually walked up to me and asked if she could help me find something.

And I...

Burst into tears.

Now, I'm not an overly emotional person by nature. I'm really not. One thing I do not do is cry in public. I just don't. Sad movies, sure. But bursting into tears over someone showing me an ounce of decency? That I generally don't do.

But just the fact that a sales person actually saw me in their store and actually assumed I was there to buy something for me was more than my overheated brain could take.

The poor woman said, "Oh, my God. You've had a bad day, haven't you?"

I'm sobbing and nodding and telling her with hitched breath that I can't find any clothes that don't make me look like a circus tent and this has been going on for 3 hours.

She blinks at me and seems really kind of surprised at that. Then she takes me by the hand (literally) and says, "We definitely have nice clothes that'll fit you." And she brings me to the right department, introduces me to another sales woman, and tells me she'll be right back.

As I'm calming down enough to talk to the new sales person about what I'm looking for, sales person number one returns with a bottle water.

Cue another round of tears.

God, can I be any more pathetic. I'm sobbing over the fact that sales people actually see me, do their job, and provide me with bottled water because I'm upset about 3 hours of hell they weren't even involved in.

After I calmed down, sales person number two squired me around the section and we were able to find a skirt and a top that looked tailored and actually looked quite lovely on me with no need for alterations.

What's more? They were in the sizes I knew I was when I started this whole mess.

This explained why the Nordstrom sales people were stunned that I couldn't find anything in my size, and why they were shocked that I was asking for sizes that were obviously (in their eyes) two sizes too big.

Did I pay a pretty penny? Well, no, it wasn't cheap, but it wasn't outrageously expensive either considering the quality of the clothes. And since I look like a human being with a semblance of a professional bone in my body, they're worth every single dime.


I plan to call Nordstrom's on Monday and tell the store manager how helpful and nice the sales people were, and say that when I land a job that requires nice clothes (at my last job the company uniform was jeans and casual tops), I will certainly be willing to give the store my business in the future.

Sorry for the whiny rant, but right now I hate the fashion industry.
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