But as I was digging through the tights drawer, something became very very clear to me: the Great Trouser Experiment of 2003-2004 is officially over. Three and four Christmases ago, I got trousers, on the theory that, hey, I live here, it gets cold, I might want some trousers. Turns out: no. Many of the things sold to women to be "dressy" are no warmer than good tights and a skirt, if as warm. I will now -- sometimes, occasionally -- rarely -- wear corduroys. But in general, the attempt at trousers was a dismal failure, and I declare it done, and I'm not really interested in going back. Jeans, yes. Skirts and dresses, yes. Trousers...not so much. It turns out. I just can't get into it, really.
Also, I have started looking for a "light-colored" dress (or matching skirt and blouse, but more likely a dress) upon the bride's request for a wedding in the late winter. I have time, so I've just been doing online preliminary looking. It's good for me to get out of the dark colors rut. (Although I like it in here and will probably slip right back in after this wedding.) But so far the only pale blue options I've found are from a store that thinks I am a size 8 on top and a size 2 on the bottom. Hint: that's not going to work. So I may have alterations in my future, and I certainly have further shopping in my future, but -- hello, clothing manufacturers! I am not a size 2! I don't particularly want to be a size 2! I do not feel all vain and proud when you try to make my measurements into a size 2! I am fine with the 4 I generally wear. Don't go vanity sizing me into nothingness and some of my friends into negative numbers. And this thing where you make the waist and hips bigger and not the bust: I am not feeling loved, clothing manufacturers. I am not feeling your affectionate regard. I am not even feeling like a Barbie doll, but I'm feeling like you think I am one. That makes me annoyed with you, not with myself.
Harumph harumph harumph harumph.