In
the midst of a busy day of ranch errands in Billings yesterday, I squeezed in some
time to try on some jeans at Big R and Tractor Supply. I didn’t buy any.
It’s
not that they didn’t fit. Thanks to irrigating and running, I’ve managed to
lose a size. But the whole full-length, 3-way mirror thing so disillusioned me
that I couldn’t part with any money for jeans. From what I saw, I need to save
up for more drastic measures: wrinkle creams, firming potions, liposuction,
plastic surgery--the works!
Mirror,
mirror, on the wall, I must ask: From whence came all those lines, lumps, and
flumps anyway? Exactly when did I start to look less like me and more like my
grandmas?
If
retailers really want to sell more clothing, they need to rethink dressing
rooms—perhaps candlelight, magic mirrors that slim and lengthen, and You Are So Beautiful playing softly in
the background.
For the record: I love my grandmas but have no plans to ever trade in my jeans for polyester pants with elastic waists!
“…To give them beauty for ashes….” ISAIAH 61:3
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