Burlington Coat Factory is basically across the street from my new office. It's been cold so I haven't taken that walk yet, but last week I had an eye appointment and had arrived early enough so I stopped on my way home. I allowed about an hour of shopping time; there are other stores like TJ Maxx very close by, if I had enough time to shop.
I was still looking for passable women's shirts. I found one that was perfect ~ only in an S. I'm several letters away from that. I also found a really pretty dress; they had a lot of similar dresses but this was the only one I really coveted. It was available in M, which was still the wrong letter (but only off by one).
I looked at pants and found two dress pants, one black, one grey. Both were passable but in addition to what you can see there's a couple of intangibles: crotch room and hip shape. There has to be enough of the former and not too much of the latter.
It was try-on time.
Women's is downstairs; men's is upstairs so I had to go up to try on the slacks. I found the dressing rooms. I also found the dressing rooms lacking. There was no place to sit, and no hooks on the wall. They had saloon-style doors (which means someone can easily look over while I'm in my undies). I tried a few different rooms. How can you have a dressing room with no place to put down your clothes?
The only variation was, one door didn't even latch. I gave up and figured returns are an option. I still had over a half-hour before I had to leave.
I continued shopping.
I had those new breast forms that were smaller than my usual ones ~ probably a 38B instead of a C. I went to the intimates department where I found the area flooded with 38C's (which I have enough of) but only one or two 38B's (which I didn't like).
I did find an article of shapewear I wanted to try and I picked that up too.
Checkout lines weren't very long but they were very disorganised and it seemed shoppers were incapable of buying just a few items. Carts were full, and after several minutes of not moving, I had an idea: upstairs, when I (almost) tried on my clothes, there were more registers.
I headed up.
One register was open. One person was in front of me and they just had a jacket.
But at the register was a woman buying men's sneakers for feet bigger than mine. It seemed for each pair the customer had to pull out her drivers license which the clerk had trouble scanning or checking (even though she just did it). Then she'd struggle to get the shoes in a bag. Then she'd do the next pair. There were still several pairs and I headed back down.
Now, lines were almost gone. One woman seemed to be finishing up and I would be next.
Except there was a man standing near the register who had a couple of suits that looked as if they came out of the cleaners (bagged). The clerk took him.
I figured he was waiting and I hadn't noticed him. I was at my self-imposed leave time, but one person, two suits....
It took several minutes to check him out. But I'm next!
A woman was standing behind the guy with the suits. She had a cart full of who knows what. It looked like she was stocking a garage sale.
I dropped the slacks and left.
In spite of finding exactly the hard-to-locate items I wanted, Burlington is off my list.
The restaurant was in Dupont Circle, and was occupied by around twenty men. All men. Some were in pairs, some were in groups.
All ignored us. Dupont Circle is known as a gay neighbourhood, but I never think about that when I'm there. I forget which is the "gay" part of town, or if there are several. I also forget which is the preppy part, the hipster part, and so on.
It's not really important.
We were seated by the window. We were both smitten by the aroma of a particular dish at another table and ordered the same. As we sat, we saw some guys hugging outside, some girls and guys holding hands....
I've offered this before:
Q: why do gays publicly show affection in Dupont Circle?
A: because they can.
Because it has a wide reputation as a gay neighbourhood and people who are there (or in
Provincetown, MA or Fire Island, NY or the Castro District of San Francisco or...) know that's normal behaviour and ignore it or partake in it or enjoy the freedom others have. I'm in the latter group, but I also feel freer to get involved in PDAs in those areas. I know, it's just for shock value when I do it. :)
While we ate, a few mixed couples came in, and I could see a woman or two at the bar. But the diners were overwhelmingly male.
We had a male waiter who kept addressing us as individually as "honey". At one point, after dinner, I walked over to the restroom. There were, not surprisingly, two. But one for men and one was unisex/family. I smiled and understood the reasoning (know your clientèle). I could hear someone in the unisex so I waited. Someone came out of the men's and told me there was a ladies' room upstairs. So I went upstairs and there was another bar and seating area and restrooms for each gender. I chose the appropriate one. There was no-one upstairs so I took my time and touched up my powder (my nose was a bit drippy from the cold) and redid my lips before going back down. The waiter asked if we were getting separate cheques and I told him I would pay. He made a comment like "good for you" or something but I forget what.
Leaving, the weather was still nice: cold but not too cold and the wind was calm, as opposed to the 40+ mile per hour winds the previous night and earlier today, and we didn't even consider a cab back to the hotel (my plan B) where we left the car.
The drive back was uneventful. I stayed in my dress for a while and then heard what sounded like heavy rain on the window. The weather had become what I was afraid of from the start: heavy, blinding snow, high winds, with some ice mixed in so we'd know it was out there.
But I was home and relatively warm and I thanked Thalia for getting us home before the nasty stuff began.
In the most common sizing, my go-to forms are a size 4. Taking advantage of the Glamour Boutique sale, I recently purchased size 1 and size 2, to see if I can wear a bra and form when in drab. (I can; more next Wednesday.)
And now I gave in and picked up a size 3 as well. I'm thinking maybe Meg needs to be a bit less "chesty." I don't know, but without trying I can't know. And the price was definitely right.
They make much larger forms than the size 4 (or equivalent) that I wear; I have no reason to go there.
But I'll let you know if a future Meg picture is "Minimal Meg" in other ways than wearing minimal makeup.
The "girly store" I mentioned yesterday was called "Miss Pixies." The come-on was more feminine
Gift shop in an unused elevator!
than the actual store.
It had all sorts of stuff ~ it looked like a thrift or antique store but it had a huge variety of cute things. There was a small amount of uninteresting clothing, but books, vinyl records, collectables, antiques (like an old automatic record player and a manual typewriter), many celebrity paintings (Elvis, Marilyn, more ~ not my style), and a lot of posters with a "real" heart on them and the label "El Corazon."
We looked around a bit and then headed to the theatre.
I went to the box office and told them I had two tickets for "Meg Winters," which he found and handed to me. I then asked where I get the parking pass. That was at the concession stand, so I went there to pay for and pick up my pass.
We still had a bit of time and we hung out in the lobby where we were pretty much ignored by everyone.
When the door finally opened, we followed the crowd to the main entrance. The man said we should go to the other entrance, which was closer to the seats we were assigned. We
Two for "Bad Jews," please
did and the woman taking tickets said "did he send you here?" I said "yes, he said you needed the business." She laughed and gave us our programmes and told us someone would show us our seats. Inside, another woman pointed Charity toward her seat. She then asked if we were together. I said "always" and I followed her in.
The show was sold out.
I don't think the show lived up to it's reviews. It was billed as a very funny show. I didn't find it so, but it was worth attending. I thought the scope was limited, too many people were giving long monologues where in real life they would have been interrupted repeatedly and the soliloquy would have degenerated into an argument. The ending was very poignant and unexpected.
After the show, the weather was still nice. It was cold but not horribly so, and the wind was calm which helped a lot. We had considered driving to the restaurant but walked ~ probably a good thing. Parking was almost non-existent there.
Once I decided it was full Meg ahead, I pulled out a teal dress I had worn before but I didn't seem to fit quite right. It seemed a bit low cut for what I was wearing underneath.
So I switched to one of my go-to dresses: my red cowlneck knit dress. I like it. It's feminine with a
loose collar and swingy skirt. It's cut loose enough that I can skip my padded panty and it still looks like I have some shape, and it's _warm_.
We decided to drive in instead of take the metro. I like being Meg On The Train ~ it's a good people watching opportunity, but the long walk from the station, even in my fairly comfortable high-heel boots, was not something I wanted to do.
Charity drove and we went to the hotel that was not too far away and had a deal with the theatre. We asked a doorman where to park and he pointed us in the right direction. When we came out of the hotel lobby, I asked him where the theatre was. He pointed to 14th street and said we can go up that street about three blocks.
I pretty much knew which way to go but I needed to talk to the guy for a second. For some unknown reason, that day I was anxious about going out. I just had a vague feeling that something was going to go wrong. I needed to get that out of the way as soon as possible.
We walked to the theatre. I knew we were plenty early, and I was looking for maybe a clothing store we could windowshop in. We walked past the theatre, considered lunch and decided to skip it, and went into a "girly" store.