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