Monday, February 27, 2012

Shopping While Petite


Recently, a major name brand clothing retailer had a sale.  Now, this is not an out of the ordinary event, but this retailer also happens to make clothing for those of us who fall under the diminutive size category.  We who inhabit the normal size world, but are part of the “petite” club face a myriad of challenges when it comes to the clothing front.  They begin with pants that are always too long, shirts with torsos that make one look like a child, and dresses that never fit in the right places.  My fellow petites and I find traditional retail therapy to be a lot of retail with almost non-existent therapy involved.

So you can imagine my excitement when this particular clothing retailer, who carries petite sizes, holds a decent sale.  Such was the case this week, which was well timed, given the doldrums that come with the gray skys on most January days.  Now the activity of shopping a petite sale is a whole art unto itself.  This is especially true if you are a 2 or below.  Why? One might ask.  The reason is because retailers have only a few items in the lowest sizes.  Naturally I find my self in elbow to elbow competition for the best items when rifling through the clearance wrack in the extra small section.  Once a coveted item is found my fellow petites and I eye each other with the ferocity of a Roman gladiator to see who will end up with the treasured item.  I mean who knows when such an item that BOTH fits AND costs less than a Gucci handbag can be found again.

It is at these kinds of sales that I can share in the frustration and disappointment of clothes shopping with my fellow petite brethren.  Nothing is more infuriating than finding the perfect dress sans the right size OR finding the perfect dress, only to try it on to find that one needs to have the disproportionate shape of a Barbie doll (big boobs, and not much else).  Ahhh, such are just some of the trials and tribulations of those who inhabit the petite world.  It is bad enough to be teased about ones size (the teasing is especially charming in predominately male dominated fields), but the added insult and injury of being forced to shop in the juniors section, out of desperation because nothing else fits, just makes one resentful of our normal sized compadres at times.

So for the first time in almost a year, I actually enjoyed shopping.  I tried stuff on, most of which fit, and did not feel guilty with my purchases, given the terrific prices.  This is what retail therapy is all about:  finding a dress that makes you look hot and is also 70% off.  I must say, the January gray didn’t seem so bad as I drove home with my treasured items, planning when and where to debut them.  With the right pair of height extenders (high heel shoes), there is nothing my new clothes and can’t do.  Amazing what a little retail therapy can accomplish.

Friday, January 13, 2012

A Letter to My Father


My Dear Baba,

It has been several years now since you left us so suddenly, without warning.  While time fades the immediacy of the excruciating pain that comes with loss, I still miss you profoundly.  This year is no different.  You left when I was on the verge of entering my thirties, now as I enter the middle part of this decade in my life, I find myself remembering forgotten conversations made so long ago when I need your advice and wisdom.

This past year has been an active one on the life front: a new job, a marriage, a dog, a death of a beloved parent.  Though you were not here to share in the joy, and the pain, I hope you know we kept your spirit in mind and made sure to find humor in all of the above.  Perhaps that is what I miss about you the most: your humor and big hearty laugh.  I try to engage in both activities daily (I must tell you it changes one’s whole perspective), I know you would approve heartily J.

I will not be writing a long letter Baba, it is still to trying think about the large missing space your departure has left in our small family, and I personally know you were not a fan of big, fat tears.  Please know that the impact of your belief, that I have the ability to do anything exceptionally well, has been a source of enormous strength when I feel my confidence failing.  We have tried to survive the shock and tumult of your sudden passing with strength, grace, and bravery.  All of us try to live lives that will give you something to brag about to your friends in heaven.  Say hello to Jethu for me, you now have a companion to share that hearty laugh with (don’t go overboard now, heaven might not be able to handle the BOTH of you in full form).

Love your daughter,

Tuktuki