The World According to JC Penny

So last week I decided I needed some new clothes. Let me preface by saying I hate shopping for clothes, and the last time I did it was probably about 4 years ago! One might ask, ‘but you’re a girl, doesn’t that mean you enjoy shopping?” The answer is a resounding NO! I hate clothes shopping because not only is every woman’s body different than the next, every BRAND of women’s clothing is different too! You might say that’s a good thing. I say give me some consistency! Size 6 in Levis jeans should be the same as size 6 in Calvin Klein! And what ever happened to the odd numbers, wasn’t there once a store called “5-7-9”? And don’t even get me started on the “low rise” and “boot cut” nonsense and that stupid thing your pants do when you sit down and suddenly there’s a 2 inch gap between your waist and your pants!
But, unless we all revert back to fig leaves (which I’m gonna go ahead and say is a bad idea!), the shopping must be done. So first I journey to Ross, where you never have to pay more than $3 for an article of clothing. I tackle the jeans aisle. Sigh. I don’t even know where to start. The one pair of jeans I currently own are a size 9 and a million years old. They are also too big and held together with a safety pin (I can see Kara hanging her head in shame now). So step one, I estimate I am now a size 6. Step two...eliminate any jeans with flowers, bedazzles, or anything pink. Step three…with the remaining selection, guess at random which ones will fit.
So with an armload of size 6, non-flowery, non-bedazzled, and non-pink jeans in tow, I head to the dressing room. 20 minutes later I walk out empty handed. Sigh. Already I wonder what is so abnormal about the lower half of my body that no pair of pants will fit it! How dare the jean companies of the world make me question my superior physical shape!!!

Next I tried Thrift Town and TJ Max to no avail. I resigned myself to the fact that I may have to pay more than $20 for an article of clothing, which is against everything I believe. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s in the bible. So I cringe and make my way to….sigh…the mall. Yes, the mall, a fishtank of teeny bopping girls and pant-sagging boys who try to act cool as their parents drop them off at the food court. A place filled with overpriced clothes that no one else has ever actually worn before. A sea of clothing racks and accessories that only the hip and trendy can identify as “cool” or “uncool”. Yes, that is where I go.
I once again find myself overwhelmed in a sea of jeans. I load up on all different sizes and brands, not quite daring to look at the price tags. Then I make my way to the dressing room and begin the process again. One after another, each jean is rejected. There are a few that seem to fit, but even those are about 6 inches too long for my apparently abnormally short legs.
The next pair I pick up is a size 4. How ridiculous, I think. I can’t fit into a size 4. But considering the vast definition of what a size 4 actually is depending on who you ask, I try them on anyways. And what is this? They seem to emit a soft golden glow, and I think I hear a choir somewhere singing “aahhh”. I turn around back and forth to see if it’s true. Yes, they actually seem to fit! I look for ripped pockets or busted seams. None! I don’t know what kind of space-time-continuom I seem to have passed thru where my giant butt can fit into a size 4 jean, but I’m not asking questions!
And believe it or not, I find even two more pairs that fit as well! The gods of JC Penny have smiled upon me! Then I dare to look at the price tags. Yikes. Ouch. No bueno. Perhaps they are not overly expensive to your skilled shopaholic, but for someone used to the prices at Ross….well let’s just say we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.
But I decide for the amount of times in a year that I actually buy clothes, and the amount of times I actually FIND clothes that fit, I should probably make the investment.
So I painfully walk to the counter with my 3 pair of jeans, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature price tag and good news for my ears!!! It seems that these particular jeans are on SALE! Never before have I understood the excitement those four little letters can bring to a woman’s ear. I have found the holy grail.

Now I must add a side note for all the men who read my blog: Yes, shopping is a spectator sport, and there are times when you are the lucky spectator, just like we are when you want to look at cars or video games. However, I warn you, avoid going clothes shopping with your girlfriend whenever possible!! Now you may be saying to yourself, Crys, of course I know better than that. Why would I ever do that. But when you’re out with your girlfriend and you pass a store and she gives you those big brown eyes and calls you pookie and asks to go in for “just a few minutes”, you and I both know you are going to cave. And during my quest for the perfect pair of jeans, I have seen the casualties of shopping firsthand. Too many men are sitting outside of dressing rooms with defeated looks in their eyes holding purses. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.