Between the hot summer and walking this dog and my gig as the lead singer of The Chafetains, I found myself in dire need of new summer duds. So this weekend, my love and I hied ourselves to North Vancouver, to take advantage of a summer sale at the fat girl store.
We should definitely have eaten first.
I don't think I've ever seen a sale that gi-huge-gic at the fat girl store. I could barely handle the bounty of t-shirts, capri pants (Syd's favourite) and bathing suits, some of which were even in my size. Bright colours! Slimming mirrors! Consumer frenzy! I tried on and rejected countless things before amassing a pile of fabric you could make a circus tent out of. This alone should have warned of the horrors to come.
It wasn't until I got home and started actually wearing the clothes in public that I realized THEY WERE AWFUL. Cheap-looking, unflattering, shapeless. Comfortable, sure, but ASS. And purple? Forget-me-not blue? TEAL? It's like a clown shat.
It's as if I've filled my closet with nothing but candy coloured capri hospital scrubs. And somehow, no matter what combination of colours I put on, it looks like I'd let my patients dress me. My blind patients. My blind patients who want to get back at me for taking their temperature rectally.
Even the dog seems embarassed to be seen with me. I'm considering telling people that she's a service dog, because then maybe they'll cut me some slack over my attire. Because clearly I have needs that are special.
Also, Katr and I managed to buy the exact same bathing suit without realizing it. Yeah, that's right. Matching creampuff swimsuits. Keep your eye out for us in Tofino at the end of the month, where we'll be shooting our major motion picture Tweedledum & Tweedledee Hit the Beach Fatly.
Goddammit.
