I've got my cranky pants on the way. Not, you'll note, on. See, I've gained a fair amount of weight this last year, and while that's a problem, it's not the problem here. I'm working on the weight - or more specifically, on the regaining muscle and flexibility. That's an ongoing battle I'll be dealing with for the rest of my life. Genetics doom me to a sturdy, fluffy build. It's me. I'm coming to grips with that, most days. I've had help, from friends, in deciding that I'm this shape, and if I buy stuff that fits me I'll feel better in general. Given that I get dressed in the dark most days, to let my husband sleep in, I've...
Gone shopping. Which is sometimes enjoyable. I do love a good used book store, for example. Shopping for undergarments? Heavens, no. Not at all a fun task, in any way, shape, nor form. And yes, I do have my tongue wedged firmly in my cheek there.
This morning, after fumbling through a drawer trying to identify the garments by feel and feeling the frustration build, I sat down and did some online shopping. You can't touch stuff when you're buying online, but you're more likely to find your size without going to multiple shops and demoralizing yourself trying on stuff that makes you look like a failed attempt at sausage stuffing. You can also read reviews, which when we're talking underpants, are often hilariously euphemistic.
I'll get my cranky pants sometime this week. Hopefully they'll make me smile when I try them on. That's kind of the point. Underpinnings are supposed to be invisible to others, but you know they are there. Especially if they don't fit and pinch, pull, and poke. Also, if they are falling apart and dingy from many washings, you're going to know. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that having confidence in your clothes starts at the skin, and builds out. So! Pretty things, happy things, and I'll get out of cranky mode.