True story. Until I get the company shirt, my work uniform is a white polo. So I had to buy a white polo. Not a problem, right? Polos are just heavy jersey. Shouldn’t be an issue, even if it is white.
I went through four stores because every single white lady’s polo was see-through. See-through to the point where an onlooker could pinpoint the exact location of the bleach stain on my bra.
So, in a quiet rage, I finally went to the men’s section. Wonder of wonders, the men’s polos were not see-through.
WHY? WHY IS MY PROFESSIONAL CLOTHING NOT HELD TO THE SAME STANDARDS OF OPAQUE-NESS AS MEN’S PROFESSIONAL CLOTHING?
I get most of my overshirts/jackets from the men’s section. For one, they have awesome jackets, and two— I have rather large breasts. I do not want something in cutsy glittery girly shit plastered across my chest, thank you. I get enough people that can’t look me in the eye.
my kingdom for a leather jacket with a decent curved waist
Bless this post.
Every fucking time I go out to look for a simple t-shirt, all I find are shirts that are super tight and uncomfortable for the sake of showing off your bust, have stupid sayings on them like “Lean, mean, sexy machine” (I have seriously seen shirts with those exact words), and have tiny fucking sleeves that don’t even cover your armpits (because we all have those days when we really don’t feel like shaving). Unfortunately for me, my mother thinks these shirts are cute and gets them for me constantly. :/
I will always buy my sweaters in the men’s section. Not only are they bigger and more comfortable, they’re actually made with better material. Apparently, you have to be male to merit fabric thick enough to actually keep you warm. Ever wonder why girls complain about being cold more often than guys? It’s not them. It’s their clothes.
Women’s clothing is designed to be rubbish so that they can buy more all the time.
Men’s clothes actually makes SENSE.
I have so many feelings on this topic, I need to stop now before I break something.
And don’t forget actual, functioning pockets.
I could probably write a fucking dissertation around the bullshit of women’s clothing and how it’s pretty much useless and overpriced, and even then you can only something that’s an approximation of “a fucking simple t-shirt” where the male equivalent is functional, easily accessible, and a price quote that won’t bankrupt you.
It will have 3 appendixes devoted to, in order, “Stupid cuts for jeans and how they are impossible to figure out store to store, let alone style to style,” “Why do people think all jeans need to adhere to your body like skin tight spandex, for gods sake sometimes I just want to wear pants that I can actually move in,” and “Girls Have Stuff Too: A look at why shallow pockets are a joke and “fake” are the stupidest fashion choice ever made.”
Fake. Fucking. Pockets.
I’m really fucking sick of all these sheer shirts popping up goddamned everywhere. Maybe I DON’T WANT to wear ANOTHER shirt underneath. I prefer just the fucking one, thanks.
Rich and I were discussing fake pockets in line at Target the other day and the cashier lady just busted out laughing and said, “Honey, ain’t that the damned truth?”
RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU’RE TIRED OF WEARING CAMISOLES UNDER ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHINGJUST SO PEOPLE ACROSS THE ROOM CAN’T TELL IF YOU BRA CLASPS IN THE FRONT OR THE BACK.
RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU HAVE TO GET THOSE CAMISOLES ONLINE/FROM CATALOGUES.
RAISE BOTH FISTS HIGH OVER THE GREAT POCKET CONSPIRACY.
I was shopping for sweatpants and I’m trying to get more with pockets so I told my dad that if he found any without them I didn’t want it, so when he finally found some he went “Here; I know how you love POCKETS.” so of course I said, “You’ve never been without pockets in your life, not even when you wear swim trunks, so don’t act like I’m being picky when I actually want some for a change.” Privileged little shit
These tags I’ll pop, and boast in rhyming verse that what I wear puts swagger in my gait; though twenty shillings have I in my purse, my self-esteem and manhood both inflate when lofty furs I purchase for a cent. Thy grandpa’s clothes are worthy salvage, though they smell a trifle musty. Still, I spent much less to dress myself from head to toe.
To save or not to save? The question’s moot. I’ll never give my coin to high-street crooks. These dusty shelves will yield their hidden loot to those, like me, more frugal in their looks. Like ancient coins washed up on distant shores, I’ll find my treasures in these thrifty stores. - Macklemore, “Thrift Shoppe”
*Crying with laughter*
ITS IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER. SWEET JESUS THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.
THIS IS THE MOST BRILLIANT POSY I HAVE EVER SEEN.
Guys, that’s not only Iambic, that’s a fucking sonnet. *claps*
Grammatically correct for the period and a couple of references to Shakespeare’s actual works.
I’m sincerely impressed.
Capt. Braxton. Who are you without your temporal ship?