We shopped from one side of the store to the other. My kids had a blast trying on dresses and all kinds of funky little outfits so it was a fun day. We were getting ready to head up to the cashier but stopped to look at the pajama section. There was a large "housedress" in my size, a very large one size fits all. That was just appealing in itself. Puzzling, yet appealing! I mean OMG - could it be true? Is there honestly a size that fits all? Well thats what the label said and who am i to argue with the fashion GODs. So, I moved in a little closer. I did the "across the bust" stretch, it passed the test. I did the around the tummy pull, it passed the test. I held it up and it made it all the way down, it was long enough also. Man oh man, it was my day to shine. It is so hard to find clothes when you are plus sized. Most of the stores seem to have the idea that every fat girl wants to look like a 65 year old woman. I mean c'mon now, we're fat, not dead. Well, this 'housedress' was colorful, bright, and silky. As most big girls do, I usually douse myself in all black and hope I blend in. NOT TODAY SAM! Today was my day. Finally I found something bright and beautiful that would be comfortable, stylish, and me. I was excited.
Well, don't worry, I soon was violently shaken back into reality. My mom has this habit that once you have new clothes, she wants to see them on you. Not in a minute, not in five minutes, but NOW. I am a slow clothes changer. Anyone plus sized knows about the knee-stretch for shirts, the standing on the hem of your pants and pull to elongate them. Well, we all go through it, we just don't all talk about it. So, I went in to the bathroom to try it on. Oh, the silk felt like heaven sliding over my body. Easing into a silk cocoon of love and comfort! Thats the best description until it hit my butt. Oh sweet Mary, my butt was the shining proof that one size does NOT fit all. Not only does it not fit, but it made me look like I was the hottest thing on the Hillshire Farms Fall Menu. I was tucked into that silky tube like a summer sausage and not quite as pretty. Seriously folks, it took me about 15 minutes to get the courage to walk out the bathroom door to show my mom. I only came out because she was telling me that it wasn't that bad, it's okay, sometimes you need to lose a couple pounds and it'll fit better. No mom, not this time. I would have to lose half of Rhode Island to fit in this 'badboy'. We chuckled a little, then talked about how nowadays the clothesmakers are cutting the sizes smaller. (another sign of denial) The main trouble came when it was time to peel the house dress off. It was then that I moved infront of a full-length mirror. The image burned itself into my retinas. I was stuffed into that MooMoo like a Thanksgiving turkey. For a long time I believed that MooMoo was a silly name for an item of clothing but now that I have actually been in one, I know the truth. Any item of clothing that is named after a barnyard animal is not something a woman should wear. Despite the allure of the comfort they offer, think of it as putting on an udder, because you will look like a COW! I squeezed out of the dress and hid it from myself. It is still up on a shelf in my closet. When I go in there to get coats or shoes I can hear a faint moooomooooo coming from above. How creepy! It took some time but I have now gotten over it! But let this serve as a warning for anyone else that falls for that enticing little silky number called a Moo Moo. It's evil in disguise. No person will EVER look good in a tablecloth, tent or tarp, aka the MOOMOO its time to retire it, its time to say NO, NO ONE SIZE FITS ALL.
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