Recently I began my annual hunt for shorts. I hate it. I double hate it. And I can’t be the only one.
The good news is that God gave me great dimples. The bad news is he put them on the wrong set of cheeks. I’m pretty good until about mid-thigh and then…that’s enough, thanks! Honestly, every time I try on shorts, I can’t ever seem to find any that are the right length for me. They are either hitting the top of my knees or the bottom of my ass.
I’m not going to Bermuda any time soon, the only board shorts I know are the ones attached to my kids when they groan about how dull it is when we have to shop for groceries, and as far as I’m concerned, the only reason that Daisy and Duke should be mentioned in the same sentence is if your talking about a campus flower garden.
Am I missing where to find CUTE shorts for women in the 40s? Come on! I’m not asking for much here, folks. Some basic shorts in some basic colors that come out of the laundry looking vaguely similar to how they went in. I’ve been baited and switched too many times to count by shorts that, in the store, are so cute and exactly the right length and fit. Then once through the machine and, voila, instant rumpled, size 6X!
Or if that order is too tall, then can we at least get some shorts that give us coverage when we sit down and cross our legs? You know, like we do almost every freaking day of the entire freaking summer?! I can easily justify aging out of bikinis and crop tops, but I refuse to move to Grannyville just because I want to wear shorts that don’t require endless fidgeting and adjusting every time I walk more than 7 steps in a row. I just want something short, but not micro; something long, but not culottes.
And before you assume I haven’t tried shopping everywhere, let me assure you, I’VE TRIED EVERYWHERE! Conservative, edgy, thrift, discount, department, you name it. If there is a store, I’ve been in it and tried on their shorts. One of these days I will hit the jackpot and score some good ones. I mean I obviously I still have faith, I keep on trying every year. Either that or I am simply looking for ways to torture myself.
I dream of that one day I walk into the fitting room lugging a sky-high, rainbow-colored stack of twill. One by one, I will try them on and look in the mirror checking the fit and length. These are too short. These are too long. These ones are just right! I guess that would make me Goldilocks and the three bare legs. I don’t know. What I do know is there is an absolute fortune, a MINT to be made on this one garment. I know plenty of creative people out there with time to spare. How about doing a mother a solid and whip up some perfect shorts? Until then I’ll just have to stick to the maxi dresses. (Giggle giggle.)