Warning: Rant Ahead

My husband and I have a Christmas party to go to this coming weekend.  Last Thursday I realized that, just to be sure, I’d better try on my party pants (denim trousers to be exact, not too dressy, not too casual, just right) and… wait for it… they didn’t fit.  I could get them on and do up the zipper, but the end result was less than desirable.  Obviously one week is not enough time to whip myself into shape; so I decided it was time to invest in a new pair of party pants.  On Friday I packed the kids off to school, dropped Casey at doggy day care and headed for the mall, spirits high, feeling optimistic.

15 stores and 5 hours later I was back on the highway headed home in tears with staticky hair, sore feet, and hips rubbed raw from peeling myself out of skinny jeans.  All I had to show for my efforts was yet another cardigan and a pair of velveteen, side-zip ankle pants.  I’m ashamed to admit that I bought the velveteen, side-zip ankle pants in a panicked last minute frenzy when I succumbed to the sales clerk’s insistence that they would be fantastic with a pair of cowboy boots or kitten heels, neither of which I own — and by the way, what is a kitten heel?  I had an hour in the car to bemoan the loss of my waistline, my muscle tone, and my youth.  And it got me thinking about how much better fabric shopping is than clothing shopping:

• Fabric is much more affordable.  For $2.50 I can buy a fat quarter that will make me happy for literally years.  The velveteen, side-zip ankle pants — $90. 
• When fabric shopping, you don’t have to undress in front of a full-length mirror, under fluorescent lights, only to find that you may have made some questionable undergarment decisions.
• Fabric always fits.  When buying fabric you never have to feel inadequate if your legs are too short, or your hips are too generous, or your breasts aren’t generous enough, or your roots are showing, or there’s a new wrinkle on your face, or… oops, sorry, but I did say this would be a rant.
• With fabric you don’t have to worry about pancake-butt or muffin-top or other carb-related fashion faux pas.
• Quilt shop sales ladies never hound you in the dressing room and follow you around forcing you to make hasty decisions (say it with me… “velveteen, side-zip ankle pants”) that you then have to spend more time and gas money to rectify.
• Fabric is always age-appropriate.  You never have to worry that a certain fabric will make you look frumpy, stuck in the 80’s, or worse, like you’re trying to dress like your 14-year-old daughter.
• When fabric shopping, you don’t accidentally stray into dark stores, with pounding music, and beefcakey guys lurking in the shadows, where you feel like you should have to show your ID to get in.  Although I must say, I didn’t actually mind the beefcakey guy.  Wonder what it would do to fabric sales to have a token beefcakey guy in quilt shops.  Sigh, I think that makes me a cougar.
• Finally, and perhaps most importantly, fabric doesn’t make your butt look big.

I still don’t have anything to wear to the party this weekend, but I do feel a bit better now.  Which is good because I have to venture back into the clothing stores and I have to return those d@#* velveteen, side-zip ankle pants.  This time I’m building in time to hit the quilt shop on the way home.  Wish me luck!