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anna

Oh man, I need TV when I've got T. Rex

by anna at 06:48 PM on February 15, 2005

As a kid I had a tiger-stripe bathrobe that I wore and dragged around like Linus with his security blanket for years. It never got washed. Every so often my mom would chuck it in the trash but I'd always fish it out. Eventually she burned it. I bawled like a little baby.

In more recent years I've been sporting a plush, multi-colored robe by Bill Blass. For some reason this thing makes me feel like that Bible dude (Jacob?) with the multi-hued robe, when I pad down the driveway to retrieve the paper---either that or Hugh Hefner with his harem. It too rarely gets washed. I figure I'm usually clean when I'm wearing it so there isn't much funk to rub off on it. It hangs on a decorative accent hook in our bedroom. The hook came from Bad Breath and Beyond. Next to it hangs my wife's Victoria's Secret robe I got her one Christmas. She thinks straight guys have no business in either of those stores.

The problem is that its growing a little threadbare. Don't get me wrong, I could afford to replace it. But there probably isn't one exactly like it. And I've grown accustomed to this one, like when you break in a baseball mitt or a girl/boyfriend. A new one simply isn't the same. So I keep on wearing it, even though I look like some shabby homeless guy picking up the paper.

It's the same way with my business casual slacks. I have a 31 inch waist, which is hard to find. Now if I wear a belt I can get away with a 32 waist/30 length. But my legs are 29 inches long. There are no 32/29s. Since I wear loafers to work, the bottom of my pants hangs below my heel and gets all tattered and frayed. This is a specific violation of my company's dress code. I could be sent home in shame! So I take scissors and try to trim the frayed part and wind up with this irregular shaped pants bottom. Fortunately I spend most of my time at a desk with my carved-up pants tucked underneath. People consult with me and I seem like a consummate professional. Little do they know...

There is a solution short of stretching my stubby legs an extra inch on one of those torture racks. I could wear shoes with higher heels. But I am a product of the 70s. Platform shoes were all the rage then, among ashen, disco-going, British and not in the good way, glam-rock T. Rex types. Them and New Jersey guidos. To this day I can't bring myself to wear high shoes. And I am barely 5'6" so I probably should.

The funny thing is that I've kind of resigned myself to living with these vaguely nightmarish aspects of my life. Hey, it beats shopping for clothes.

comments (9)

You know, you could probably go to a tailor and have them raise the cuff a half-inch or so. It'd probably save you some headache in the long run.

The robe, however, I sympathize with. I was forced to abandon my baby blanket after an afternoon in the back yard with it. When I picked it up to go inside, there was a large menacing (and I'm sure poisonous) spider on it. It was just never the same after that and I was resigned to living life baby blanket-less.

by snaggle at February 15, 2005 7:53 PM


Right family, but you want the son. The play is called Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat after all. But Jacob had in his possesion before he gave it to Joseph. It was Bible times... i bet it only had two colours anyways. Not that flashy if you ask me.

by dominathan at February 15, 2005 9:56 PM


No business in Victoria's Secret indeed, s'only cos no matter what we'd pick off a rack they'd never wear it.

"Come ooooooon put it ohn! yeah, yeah!"

*Ten minutes later.*

"Yeah alright, now take it off... Uh... Slower than that, it cost me enough."

I'm a 32/34... Aah, and don't have a problem finding troosers/jeans/(slacks!?) to fit. ;) And... 'Who' wears robes!? And why? What is the point in robes? If it's cold, take a shower and get dressed when you get up, if you feel like lazing around, laze in your boxers... And if it is cold... Don't you guys have central heating?

I can't even imagine going outside in nothing but a robe and slippers (Slippers!? 'Who' wears slippers!? And why!?) Only time I've had to go out in anything like that was when the my friends car alarm went off and we both went running out in our undies with weapons. By weapons I mean a dumbell bar, and a cricket bat... Mad how sporting equipment becomes weapons depending on the situation ain't it?

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 16, 2005 1:39 AM


Ah Ex Crimson, it's America! Our fashion sense is a little off by European standards. You're right about the sporting equipment. I used to have an apartment right on a busy street, and one afternoon there was a huge commotion out on the sidewalk. One of my neighbors, not knowing that the noise was because of a car accident, came out of his doorway trying to casually carry a golf club. Of course, he was actually carrying it as a weapon. You know, come to think of it, he was in a robe and slippers!!

Once someone at Victoria's Secret told me that guys were always coming in looking for crotchless panties. It grossed the staff out. Those guys in particular should not be allowed to buy lingerie for women.

by jean at February 16, 2005 2:22 AM


BURNED your blanket?

How sad...

so sad...

When you die Anna, you'll start to smell the blanket again... and it will wrap your body in comfort...

by lockheed at February 16, 2005 6:01 AM


Well that certainly makes me feel better. I also recall how my family would make this big joke about my attachment to that robe. How embarassing is that? And yes, I know I look ridiculous in my robe outside (no slippers, ew) but it is the time between wakeup and shower and I don't want to pull on dirty clothes or put on today's before I iron them. Which, I suppose, I should tend to now.

by Anna at February 16, 2005 7:17 AM


A tailor, huh? Me thinks you'd sooner find a milkman. But when I had my 1st and only job interview my mom found one to tailor a suit for me. It's sleeves were too short but this Israeli guy kept telling me they weren't. I felt like I was in Alice in Wonderland.

Crotchless panties? Doesn't that kind of defeat the pupose? I think guys check their better judgement at the door at that store.

by Anna at February 16, 2005 7:37 AM


I've only been in VS twice, first time I just wanted to 'look around' and maybe chat to one of the clerks, backed up by two friends and giving it the young boys banter, asking stupid questions for quick laughs... Clerk wasn't even fazed though, kinda took the fun out of it.

"Can I have that huge cardboard cut out of Heidi Klum when you're done?"

"No they go back to the main outlet and then I think they're thrown away."

"Can't you just say it was damaged and that you threw it away?"

"No."

The clerks tend to guide you in the right direction anyway, if you start lingering near the decadent stuff, they'll subtly cringe and shake their heads. I think VS clerks have male customers' psyches down and marked. They don't come over to ask if you need help, instead they all but physically place you in front of the rack with the wearable undies... And narrow your choice down to colour.

"Do you know the sizes?"

"Uh uh uh, *scratch* *beats chest* Uh uh."

"Okay, well, let me just, here take these, this ,and this, and you'll need this too. Yeah, she'll like that. Are you sure you want it in black?"

"*Grunt*, uh uh, *scratches arse* Uh uh."

"Okay, let me just get a bag for you."

"Sure I can't have that cardboard cut out?"

"I'm sure."

"Bah!"

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 16, 2005 2:00 PM


Must be very different in England. Though the clerks here all sound English, they don't help at all. Hence all the crotchless panties.

by Anna at February 16, 2005 5:56 PM