This happened today:
Last week, I’d put out a call to my peeps online asking where to buy a winter coat. I knew that I would need one, as the two winter coats I currently have in my possession are 4 and 6 sizes too big for me, respectively. My requirements for a winter coat were that it had to have a hood, a zip out liner, be long enough to cover my butt, and be water repellent if possible (this was not an absolute necessity).
So today we had gone to the mall so that I could drop off my recyclables at Kiehl’s (and pick up some more body butter; theirs is awesome). At this particular mall, it is easiest to go through Nordstrom to get to the Kiehl’s, so we did. I stopped to browse in the women’s section because I just wanted to look around. I picked out a couple of long-sleeved blouses to try on, which fit and looked great so I decided to get them since it was triple points day (!!!!). Then I saw The Coat.
I was not expecting to buy a coat today. I wasn’t expecting this one to fit. It was a misses size large, and I’ve been wearing extra large in my shirts and sweaters because that is what fits. I looked through all the coats on the rack and no extra large was to be found, so I was a bit disappointed. I kept looking at the coat thinking the shoulders would not be wide enough for me.
My husband, ever helpful and optimistic, said, “Try it on.”
I said, “I don’t think the shoulders will fit.”
He nudged gently and said, “Just try it.”
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La Guerra de La Gorda 