There is, as the well worn phrase goes, ‘a fine line between sanity and insanity’. And I know that shopping for clothes inches me ever so close to tipping over into the insanity pool. As a matter of fact I wonder if that tipping has already happened, and I just haven’t recognized the fact. 

At the age of sixteen, with an androgynous figure, shopping was a breeze. But now, thirty-seven years later, two children, added pounds and the force of gravity, all add up to making the shopping ordeal just that-a big ordeal! No two companies make their garments in the same size range-a size 12 may be a size 10 in one line of shirts, and that same size 12 may be size 16 in another line. It is just as well you buy a pair of drapes, sheets, or a large bath towel and head for home accepting the defeat. At least you will have something to cover you so you won’t be charged with public mischief or creating a disturbance. 

Little tops that bare the navel, the size large that looks like something only a seven year old could wear, neon colors, stripes that go around the body instead of running up and down-which everyone knows the size 12 and up needs to wear, skirts that bare it all, are not for the 50-plus baby boomers. Most of us are new grandmothers now . The time has come in our lives to give up the fashion trends of the day, and accept who we are, what are bodies require, and most of us do. 

However the clothing companies are slow to catch up to those of us who need more than those tiny tops that allow the ring in the navel to be shown to the world. Our navels are our own business, and they are not for show, even if we could all find them! We need the one good outfit, with style and comfort being the goal, and then we need to choose the accessories that will dress up that one outfit, or dress it down, depending on the occasion. Now if such an occasion does arise, we will have to forego our comfy cotton pants and t-shirts that we wear for gardening, fishing, reading, doing housework, running errands and in fact, just plain live in, and wear that special outfit. 

After a particularly long day of shopping for that ‘special outfit’, plowing through little clothing stores jammed tight with all sorts of garments, hangers scraping the rods they hung on, dressing rooms with florescent light that make you look like a bleached whale whose lipstick turned purple, I found the perfect solution to calm the spirit and soothe the soul. The famous Erma Bombeck whose writing I dearly love, said in one of her works that the only time she ever fainted was when she tried on a bathing suit in a small dressing room under the ever present florescent light, while wearing a pair of knee-high hose. She looked in the mirror, she reported, and fainted dead away! And I believe that can happen, and that is when you tip into that pool of insane, driven women, who have ‘shopped ‘til they dropped’. 

My solution came quite by accident about six years ago. My daughter and I were shopping, and we had been to every store in Halifax, and I had no luck. The one outfit that would be perfect was brown, and I would rather wear a mascot chicken suit than anything brown, so consequently I had found nothing, and had a daughter who was becoming a bit out of sorts with me. Then the enlightening moment happened. I wandered into a store that catered to large, tall men and women. I spied an outfit in a cranberry color, exactly the style I wanted and I was elated. Thank heavens, some success at last. So I sought the clerk, and proceeded to ask her about the outfit. She told me all the particulars, price, types of material, and what was best to wear with it. Things were looking up. 

“What size do you need dear?” she asked gingerly, all the while studying me over her glasses as if mentally measuring. 

“Fourteen, depends on the style, might go to a twelve, might go to a sixteen, you can’t go by sizes so I just need to try it on, so I’ll start with the fourteen.” I rambled on under her gaze. 

At that, she took off her half-glasses and stuck one of the ear pieces in between her teeth. 

“Oh, dear,” she said, “I am so sorry, but we do not carry anything in a size that small!” 

Well, that was a defining moment! I thanked her and left. I never asked about the sixteen, I never said a word, I couldn’t speak. I was so ecstatic I was floating. 

I told my daughter what had happened when she caught up to me, because by then I was heading to the other store that catered to larger sizes. ‘NOTHING THAT SMALL’ –well, I was thrilled, and I am sure temporarily insane. My daughter was disgusted, so without purchasing a thing, we left for home. 

That was ten years ago, and since that day, whenever I am feeling disgusted and frustrated on a shopping trip I look for the stores that carry the large sizes. And guaranteed they will say at some point that they do not have anything small enough for me! And I am walking on air for weeks. It is the perfect solution, makes me feel fantastic, and doesn’t cost a cent. 

And that is my quiet way of dealing with the frustration of shopping for clothes. It doesn’t mean I won any great war, but I surely win the battle to preserve my sanity for one day longer. 

Too bad my dear daughter can’t come along she lives far away. But she says she wouldn’t join me anyway. She maintains I have a somewhat odd way of achieving self-satisfaction! 

I say it keeps me out of that ‘insanity pool’ and live to shop another day!!

(Mrs. Jarvis-Lowe is also a professional photographer. If you would like to view her photographs, you can go  HERE)