Duu Yuu Muumuu?

In follow-up to yesterday's post, a friend sent me a commiserating message. She, too, was bemoaning how her clothes don't fit like they used to. She joked that she had been shopping for muumuus. "Where does one shop for muumuus?" I asked, because how the heck would I know?, and she helpfully responded with this link from the Vermont Country Store. Because friends don't let friends… oh wait, that's not really appropriate here. We're enabling, not preventing.

After perusing the website, I would agree that the VCS is definitely the go-to purveyor of muumuus. They boast an extensive selection: 58 (fifty-eight!) different varieties of muumuus, caftans, loungers, "patio dresses" (?) and "floats" (??), in sizes small through 3X.

I know what you're thinking. "Why so many varieties?" Well, because how boring would it be if they were all black and brown? SNNNZZZ! But more than that, you're probably wondering what I am, which is small? They make small muumuus? Isn't that an oxymoron? Like jumbo shrimp?

Well, whatever the reason, it appears that muumuus are in great demand, and the VCS is responding to its savvy muumuu consumers' demands! As a value-added service to my seven readers, I present but a small selection, annotated with my snarky comments:

Square neck crinkled cotton float 
Behold, the square-neck crinkled cotton float (what's a float?) in slimming solid colors. Because you wouldn't want anyone to think you're trying to hide anything in there.

 Long and loose batik
Here we have the Long and Loose (hey, who're you calling loose?) Batik Muumuu: Unrestricting Fit with Flair. Flair is defined as "a uniquely attractive quality", and are you also thinking that this might be another oxymoron?

The coolest of all garments
This is Our Cotton Gauze Muumuu: The coolest of all garments. And D minor…is the saddest of all keys, I find. People weep instantly when they hear it, and I don't know why.

Water Garden Muumuu 
The Water Garden muumuu cools and refreshes. So does a douche. Or a Miller Lite. (But in a different way, of course.)

Fancied up with embroidery
This cool, crisp chambray patio dress is "faniced up with embroidery." Because nothing says "fancy" like embroidery, and nothing can be "fancied up" quite like a patio dress. Which appears to be very much the same as a muumuu.

And, finally:

Polka-dot party lounger
The Polka-Dot Party Lounger Shows Off Your Fun Side! Oh, my. First of all, "party lounger" is yet another oxymoron. And second, I thought muumuus were designed to hide all of your sides!

Please, don't misunderstand.  I've nothing against the venerable muumuu or anyone who wears one. If that's what works for you, then great. But because mentally I am in 7th grade, the descriptions made me giggle. I mean, when you look at them all, it's pretty much all the same basic dress, just in different colors with slight variations in styling and trim. And if you're looking to buy one, you probably don't need to be "sold" on one versus the other.  You have outgrown all your "skinny clothes" so want a muumuu. You like red, and embroidery. (Fancy!) You need a size L, you put it into your cart and click "checkout." Done.

Wanna read more about muumuus on Wikipedia? Of course you do. You might learn something.

Fashion Don’t

Yesterday morning, while attempting to dress for work, I changed my clothes three times.  Have you ever had a day like that? Other than when you were a teenager, I mean. As an adult. Recently. Where nothing felt right, no combination worked, stuff just didn't fit…

Am I the only one?

*insert sound of crickets chirping*

FINE, maybe I am. Stop rolling your eyes already. But I’m going to tell you what I’m dealing with here because blogs are for sharing.

There’s a perfect storm of contributing factors to my wardrobe malaise. For starters, things just don’t fit like they used to. I’m inclined to attribute this to my advancing age (I was, after all, born in the ‘60s), but more likely, it’s due in equal parts to French fries and wine. Neither of which I’m inclined to forego.  I need to dig out the warranty to see if "having my off switch recalibrated" is covered.

So, there’s my complete lack of willpower.  Next, we have my disinclination to do anything that remotely resembles exercise. Oh sure, I’ll park in the far lot and walk to the Metro station, and I’ll help shovel feet of snow off of our driveway, but let’s just say that my treadmill is collecting plenty of dust these days. As are my sneakers.

Those things account for the fact that the things I own don’t fit. But they don’t account for the fact that apparently, I have bad taste.

Why didn’t you people tell me??

The last time I changed was literally right before I walked out the door. I was holding my coat, ready to put it on, and decided NO! I cannot wear this! I quickly changed my top to something I hoped would go better with the pants I was wearing.  It was only later, in the office, as I changed into my work shoes that I discovered I'd forgotten to change my socks. So there I was at work, slipping my red-sock-clad feet into black clogs and hoping my pants would cover them so that no one asked me how come the red socks with the pink top?

As is my compulsion habit, I posted my quandary on Facebook.

Fashion dont FB

A friend posted in response:

Like is it bad enough that I would snicker all bitchy like if I saw you on the street?

And I thought to myself no, no, you probably wouldn’t snicker all bitchy like. But you might have some other thoughts. You might be wondering, is this what happens to women on the far side of 40? The Frumpies?

Next, you might promise yourself that I Will Not Allow This Happen To Me.  To that I say, Good luck and Godspeed to you, Sunshine.

But if you were sincerely full of care and concern for what is obviously a Very Big Problem?

You’d nominate me for What Not To Wear. I would totally subject myself to Stacey and Clinton’s ridicule in exchange for a two-day shopping spree and a  $5,000 new wardrobe.


FIVE GRAND! I wouldn’t even know how to spend that kind of money on my clothes!


Shut up.


Back in business


I knew it would show up sometime. It's been almost four weeks since I apparently set it down on the rocking chair in his bedroom, possibly to pick up some of the stuff on his floor or maybe to dig in his closet for something, then absentmindedly wandered away or became distracted (oooh, shiny!), never to think again about the phone for almost 24 hours afterwards.

But this morning, while I was making his oatmeal for breakfast, he wandered into the kitchen, holding out the missing communication device.

"Look what I found in my room," he said.

I had pretty much given up on looking for it. In fact, last week I reactivated my old cell phone, the one I had before my QWERTY keyboard-equipped Env2. My kids were all but mortified that their mother was sporting a KRZR2KRZR2, because gah mom it's soooo four years ago. But you know what, I was mostly content with this phone. It was a Perfectly Fine Phone. I could place and receive calls, store addresses, send text messages (though each one takes MINUTES to peck out), and even snap low-resolution photos.  I only got the newer one because it cost me nothing and it had the keyboard, all the better to txt with. And we all know that these kids nowadays, they prefer texting to talking.

So, I'm back in business now.  I will call to deactivate the KRZR2 and reactivate the ENV2 and guess what, in October I'm due for ANOTHER free phone (thanks, Verizon!).

But I think I'll keep the ENV2 – and the KRZR2 – just in case. Because my track record speaks for itself, don't you think?

Thanks Peezer! (insert gratuitous cute kid photo here:)