I have been intervened. My sisters have taken it upon themselves to lie awake at night Facebooking each other about how ridiculous I dress, knowing that I not only don’t have Facebook, but hardly know what it is. Recently on a family outing when I showed up at my sister’s house bright and shiny, she took one look at me and asked me if I was going to change into my “real” clothes when we got to the park, or if she needed to hold everybody up so I could change before we left. Uh, no, I’m wearing this, thank you. What’s wrong with it?
I guess I’m NOT supposed to go out in public wearing my fiance’s t-shirts. I don’t see why not- they are so damn comfortable. Who wouldn’t want to wear an XL “old man” polo shirt with sleeves that goes down to their elbows and the length of the shirt itself going down to their knees? Who wouldn’t want massive amounts of material billowing away from their body so when the wind blows up their shirt they blow up like a Sumo wrestler? Who wouldn’t want to pair the awesomely comfortable t-shirt with a trendy sweatshirt that makes the shirt pucker underneath and look like a torn up skirt barfing out of their torso?
I guess folding the collar of the shirt over my hoody isn’t that cool, either. But come on, gimme a break. I LIKE how I dress. I guess my sisters don’t- they’ve been sending each other WTF was she wearing?! messages to each other for over a week. One of my sisters actually stopped by my house to drop off some “cool” clothes and hair accessories for me like I need a handout. Ahem, I HAVE cute shirts- I wear them under my fiance’s shirts, thank you.
My sisters don’t get how someone my size would want to dress so weird. They tell me all the time, “If I were a size 0 I would wear the most skin-tight clothes I could find.” They don’t get why I prefer “hiding” my tiny body (I’m 4’11” and 85 pounds) in hideously large t-shirts. Why? Because comfort, at any size, is a priority. How come I have to wear midriff baring clothing and shorty shorts, when they get to walk around in sweat pants and comfy ts? If I want to wear my fiance’s pajamas under my jeans (which I do- I pull the waist up to my boobs for added warmth and to make make my baggy jeans fit better), I say, more power to me. Why should anybody else care?
My favorite t-shirts to wear though are the ones he’s already worn. I dig through the dirty clothes hamper like a mouse for a burrow, trying to find a t-shirt that has his deodorant smell on it. He wears Old Spice, and it just smells delicious. I don’t smell near as nice as he does (I think I smell like cat piss- seriously, that’s what my sweat smells like), so having a pre-scented huge ass baggy t-shirt is a super score for me to wear for 3 or 4 days. I put on yet another of my black printed t-shirts (all my shirts are black with stupid designs on them, save my brown shirt with humans that look like pigs on it) and glide into a huge, wispy, tent of a shirt and call it good. I tuck my fiance’s pajamas in my socks and pull the ample waistband up to my boobs, and yank on my jeans, and I’m good to go. Oh, wait! Cold out! Slip on the oh-so-cute sweatshirt I have and pull the t-shirt’s collar out over the neck of the hoody, and NOW I’m ready for a night on the town.
Didn’t my sister give me one of those huge ass flower thingys for my hair? Hey, it matches the t-shirt exploding out of the bottom of the sweatshirt! Matchy matchy! I’ll wear that, too. Won’t my sisters be proud of how “stylish” I am? Man, I am one sexy beast!