Monday, October 20, 2008

How to Make Your Derriere Look Smaller

Well, not really, but it sounded good. There are several rules of dressing to look thinner, and I've tried most of them: wear dark colors, don't wear anything tight, wear shirts that cover the derierre, wear dresses instead of pants, wear patterned clothes over bulgy areas, stuff like that. But today I learned something new and that is the art of distraction.

I had a chiropractor appointment and I was weedeating the yard and lost track of time. When I noticed the time, I put everything up and jumped in the shower. I didn't have any clean pants except one pair that is really too tight and shows every bulge which is a violation of one of the above rules. And to make it worse, the shirt that goes with it was wrinkled, really wrinkled. I was in such a rush that I only had time to iron the front of the shirt, and figured it would be ok since I walk into the room first and then the doctor comes in and he leaves before me.

But when I got to the office, I recognized two of the five women in the waiting room. There are almost NEVER people in this waiting room when I've been there before, or at most just one other person. And these two women had been in a group I once belonged to, and they never failed to comment on other women's weight, often in earshot of the poor women.

This is the difference between men and women. Men look at a woman and if they don't like what they see, they look away and instantly forget about it. Women look at another woman and if she is overweight, they say something along the lines of "I'm glad I'm not that big," "I'm not that big am I?" or "How could she let herself go like that?" And then they repeat that to everyone they see.

So, knowing this, I was prepared to keep a blank face when I heard the inevitable after I walked past them. But lo and behold, all I heard was "Did you see how wrinkled her shirt was?" Whoohoo, I can live with that! I may never iron the back of my clothes again.

Until next time, may you have blessings and no need for wrinkled clothes,
Marti

My ordinary life

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