Saturday, August 09, 2008



You're supposed to hand stuff down to your younger siblings, not the other way around. That's how it worked for us for a while, until I turned into the preteen chunk that I was and anything I would have discarded would have been too large for her.

But then all of a sudden it started going in the opposite direction. I lost weight and she lost weight, and suddenly that meant that she was passing stuff off to me until she got way too skinny for me to catch up. Not unhealthily skinny. She's just got smaller bones than me.

For the most part I didn't mind that much because her clothes were cooler than mine and I'm an inherently stingy person, so I don't mind having to buy less stuff for myself.

I figured that all of this hand-me-around business was finally over until a couple months ago when I once again endured the immense irritation that comes with trying to locate undergarments of the correct size.

I spent a couple hours angrily busting out of everything I tried on when suddenly I had a bit of an epiphany and decided to try on something bigger. (I'm sure that any other person would have done that right away once they found out that something didn't fit but give me a break, I'm "gifted.") It was then that I found out that I had gone from one uncommon and difficult to locate size to a larger but still uncommon and difficult to locate size. At about the same time my sister did the same thing, and it just so happened that she vacated the size that I now found myself in. Something in the water maybe?

So you probably guessed that this called for more hand-me-ups as my sister suddenly had a drawer full of nearly new bras that she won't use. They weren't quite as enthusiastically accepted as, say, that pair of black jeans or the tshirt that I had secretly wanted, but they ended up in my drawers anyways, to be worn when the ones that I bought for myself were in the wash.

For anyone who is horrified at this point you can rest assured that there is quite a thick line drawn in front of underwear. I don't know if the line is completely necessary because I can't think of anyone who would try giving me their old underwear but whatever. It's there.

All this means that I'm currently wearing something with a cutesy design that I never would have purchased for myself and I'm not sure how long I'm going to bother keeping it because it's itchy and one of the underwires is poking me a bit.

I can't believe I just wrote an entire post about why my boob is itchy. Sometimes I wonder why so many thoroughly awesome people read this blog.