Rip the Tags Out. They Mean Nothing.

Size. Every girl’s worst nightmare.

Well, I had an eye opening experience at Macy’s tonight. After kicking off the golf season last Sunday in boring black pants, I decided I realized I needed a good ole pair of khaki pants. So after a really amazing class at Sports Club, I grabbed a smoothie and went bargain hunting at Macy’s. Mother’s Day sale. I’m not a mother but I definitely don’t mind borrowing the benefits.

I was actually very impressed with what I was able to find. 10 different kinds of khaki, a bunch of blue pants which I thought might also be a good golf option, and super looking pair of blue and white sear suckers. (OK, all of you that are laughing, I do tend to get a liiiitle preppy in summer!! I admit it!) I must have had 20 pairs of pants in 3 different sizes.

Needless to say, not one pair of pants fit me. Too tapered, too long, too short, waist too big, rise too short, pockets too large. I finally gave up on every size six, eight, and ten I brought into the dressing room and looking at the sear suckers tossed to the side and threw them on. Hey, not bad! I like these! They’re the last thing I need and not what I came for but after all that effort I wanted to leave with something.

But here’s the kicker. Size 4. Give me a break! I haven’t seen size 4 since I was 12 years old. I am a solid 8/10, no two ways about it. It’s no wonder women hate to shop. If I’m going to buy any more pants in the near future, I’m going to have to give up the 53 day challenge to fit it in.

By the way, 31 DAYS DOWN! 22 to GO. Stay tuned tomorrow when I chime in on the real reason for this blog as Mr. Finance has requested some clarity.

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