Went to buy some clothes the other day. I was feeling confident that my body has become more trimly European – what with all this walking and smaller portions and fresh food. I paced the shiny halls of the local mall looking for a store to try my luck. I walzed into Zara, a European clothier with stylish duds for reasonable prices – they even list US sizes alongside the European ones for easy reference! I found a couple great deals and headed toward the fitting rooms.
Ah, the moment of truth arrived. Truth = French bodies are not like my body. I gingerly yanked a medium shirt over my un-exercised, but still-broad shoulders, and generous gene-pool bosom. Had I accidentally raided the Zara children’s section? This medium is not supposed to show my navel and the scoop neck is about to become a v-neck…
Hmph. Better luck with the sexy white jeans? Non. I couldn’t get their slimfit past my right thigh and teetered precariously in the tiny dressing room trying to remove the jeans without falling or ripping the tiny-T.
I breathed in, assuring myself that my brawny American “athletique chic” build doesn’t need these trendy teeny clothes anyway. However, upon further contemplation, I moved beyond my “proud to be from the land of Venus Williams and Mia Hamm” harrumph, and came up with another theory. Perhaps this is a subtle French revenge taken out on my Germanic body. “Those thick Prussian honches have no chance in our cute pedal-pushers and faux-fur boots!” Like a size 6 kick in my Wittgens shins. The Maginot Fashion line – and this one works! If I can ever peel these dang white jeans off, I’ll surely wave them in surrender.
And in an unrelated story - you can now look at a few photos from my parents visit a few weeks ago. Hope the link works this time... BRITTANY AND NANTES WITH THE FAM