Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Trip Report Tuedsay: Ask Not For Whom The Mall Tolls...
...it tolls for me.
This week my projects are twofold. One is to continue to lead the needlework club at the elementary school where I work--I'm teaching the students how to knit and crochet-- and the other is to find an outfit for an upcoming job interview. An interview at a real company, where real people work. ("Real" in this instance, being "actual career-path, as opposed to just-fell-into-after-college.") The needlework club is an ongoing project and it's going pretty well. (And speaking of ongoing projects, yes, Mother, I'm still working on your sweater!) The interview outfit I didn't anticipate would be so complicated.
My personal style shifts fairly wildly from "angry hipster" to "classy broad," but lately it's settled of necessity on "educator inconspicuous." None of these are images I want to project at a job interview. I was hoping for, at least, "intelligent professional person who is still stylish and has a life." The trouble is that I've lost about 20 pounds since I last could lay claim to looking professional or having a life, and none of my interview-appropriate clothes fit me anymore. This means I have to brave The Mall.
I'm short and curvy, so clothes shopping has always been a hassle. Nevertheless, I actually rather like paying attention to fashion; it's like making myself into an art project. As such, I think of shopping as a treasure hunt. And if I am the Indiana Jones of fashion, then the mall is my deadly trap-filled cave. I'm going into territory fraught with peril and crawling with hostile natives to seek some legendary item which may not actually exist. In Indy's case, it's a golden idol; in mine, it's a button-down shirt that will actually button down and a pair of pants that don't end six inches past my feet. While at least the Nazis don't steal my find the moment I leave, these items have proven just as elusive as Jones's quarry.
I called my sister for moral support. My sister, who answers to the nickname "Fabulous," is five gay men with their own TV show trapped in one snarky lesbian's body. She has drilled me on appropriate hem lengths and educated me about "suit alternatives." She has told me I'm gorgeous over and over again to inoculate me against how drab, pudgy, and stunted dressing room fluorescent lighting invariably makes me feel. And this past weekend during my preliminary reconnaissance, she consoled me as I spent five (5) hours in the mall and acquired one (1) top-- which I can't even wear by itself. This week's project? Mallrats II- This Time, It's Personal. I am going back and not leaving until I look sophisticated and employable. Or until I die. Whichever comes first.
Labels: tripreport
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Good luck to you. I admire your courage. I will never brave the mall. I would rather interview naked. Just sayin'.
Good luck to you. I admire your courage. I will never brave the mall. I would rather interview naked. Just sayin'.