Success

There is nothing worse than standing in a dressing room with pasty white skin peppered with adult acne and wearing a pair of purple Hanes underwear that should have been thrown away after the third trimester.

Let's face it, dressing rooms are never really your friend. They are a glaring reminder of every insecurity you have ever faced all reflected back to you under fluorescent lights filled with the sound of chipper sales people asking if anyone needs a different size.

I have vivid memories of being a little girl standing in a communal dressing room at Caldor's while women in all states of undress tried to squeeze their way into clothing without exposing too much skin. Thank goodness for a locked door.

So I did it. I actually purchased an entire outfit in the year 2008. I know there are only three months left to this year, but I feel a sense of satisfaction. I walked into that dressing room pushing my stroller topped with jeans and sweaters, a cute pair of ballet flats and the newest must have accessory--the year round scarf. I love a scarf. It covers you up and keeps you warm! I squeezed my way in and tried to distract the lady with a Halloween book and her barrette.

Why are dressing rooms 900 degrees?

It was hot in there and I was trying on sweaters. The saleswoman was asking if anyone needed help and much to my surprise--I did. First of all there was no way I was getting redressed, dragging the lady out of the tight corner I had her squeezed into and getting myself a new size. So I braved it, opened the door and asked for a medium sweater. A medium! Not the large size that had so long draped its way over my ample bosom, not a large that contained my back fat and my muffin tops but a medium!!!! I was psyched. To top it all off, the jeans I tried on--also too big. Now to be fair the other jeans I tried on in the same size fit just fine, but according to the saleslady these had stretch. Stretch if you come in a smaller size I will take you every time. So not only did I walk out of there with a medium sweater, I walked out with a pair of pre-preggo sized jeans, a cute pair of shoes and a very trendy scarf. Success!!

Dare I push my luck?

I wheeled my way into one more store but Baby Bulimia showed up in the Banana Republic. First she was practicing a very loud fake cough but the fingers found their way down her throat. I think it was her very subtle way of letting me know that this shopping spree was over and should end on a high note. Oh, and just for the record, she was sporting a very cute fall outfit herself--fresh from the dryer.