I lost my modesty at Old Navy

First, I just have to say that DUDES, summer in the Bay Area went from 0 to 60 (or more specifically, 60-93) almost overnight.

So there I was, dressed in a lovely work-appropriate dress and sweater and heels. I had plans to go up to SF to meet Farah for dinner though and as the day went on and on and I got hotter and hotter, all I could think about was how trapped I was feeling in my dress and that the ankle straps on my shoes were going to strangle my feet and that they might turn black, shrivel up and fall off.

Totally reasonable.

(Also: The sushi for lunch probably didn’t help, green soy sauce bottle or not.)

I bailed out of work a few minutes early and drove myself to the local Old Navy so I could make a pit stop for some flip flops and save myself from being an amputee.

Once I was in Old Navy I saw a bunch of very dumpy, but very comfy looking dresses and was suddenly VERY ENVIOUS of all the regular sized ladies who had the luxury of just walking into a store and picking out a new dress. Except that shoot…Old Navy has what they call “vanity sizing,” which is code for “Everything runs a size or two too big so that your fat ass can see a smaller size on the tag and feel better about yourself.” This meant that maybe that XXL tenty-looking dress would fit me!

So I went on a seven minute Old Navy shopping spree and picked out a few things that seemed more comfortable and less DEATH BY WAISTBAND inducing than the dress I was already wearing, took my adorable but agonizing shoes off right there at the check stand and then stopped in the mall bathroom to change my dress. The mall bathroom, like all other mall bathrooms on the face of the planet, wasn’t air conditioned and the on/off dress process was sweatier than it needed to be but it turned out that the XXL tenty dress from Old Navy was probably even a size too big so I had no problem with the maneuver.

I walked out of my stall and realized that oh dear…the boob coverage of this tenty dress was minimal and the bra I happened to be wearing was strapless, therefore it was large and totally hanging out the front of the dress. But whatever, I would make due. I didn’t care.

I spent the entire drive up to SF fiddling with the dress, the straps, the bra…trying to figure out how to make it acceptable, but no dice. And then the closer I got to SF, the more the temperature dropped. In 93 degree heat, people might be more understanding of the emergency tenty dress and the hangy-outy bra…but in 75 degree San Francisco, people would wonder why the heck I couldn’t keep my shit together enough on this perfect, beautiful day to select appropriate undergarments.

BUT WAIT! I bought a few tank tops while I was at the Old Navy! I’ve seen people wear tank tops under strappier dresses to make them acceptable! I can do that too! Where to change though? Oh! I know! How about in my car, which is parked in this primo spot on the street, six feet away from people at their desks?

OKAY!

So if you happened to be minding your own business at your street-level desk yesterday evening and you saw a fat girl pulling her dress down to her waist and re-dressing herself, I apologize. The strapless bra is ugly, I know.