Clothes for Interviewing
Okay…so I’m a plus-size mommy. Nice clothes are hard to find, in general, in my size. And apparently, if you live in the sunny state of California, it’s even more difficult to find a nice interview suit during the summer months (because our weather changes so drastically??). On Tuesday, I have a third face-to-face interview with the same company. This time with the General Manager and two other Directors. I ABSOLUTELY CAN’T wear the same suit I wore for the first two interviews. (Granted, I changed the shirt I wore…but it was the same suit.) I had to find another option.
So, I’m shopping today in one of the stores for larger women like myself (okay, I’ll just say the name: Lane Bryant). I like this store because they have a special design for their pants that addresses three different body types. The problem is, I think a lot of other women must be the same size and type as me…because they rarely have my size available. It’s always sold out. So, I’m searching through racks and racks of clothes trying to find a decent outfit for this third interview. I pull together an outfit that is “okay”, but I’m still searching for that perfect option. They had no suits. No jackets. Some nice pants. Some nice shirts. So I had to put together an outfit that worked and fit. I tried on about ten pairs of pants and seven or eight shirts before I found a few options that would work.
Sales Lady: “Would you like me to hold those things for you while you continue looking?”
Me: “Sure!”
I hand my items over to her and continue my search. About fifteen minutes later, I go back to get my clothes from her and THEY’RE GONE!!!
Me: “Um…where are my clothes?” I think my voice must have sounded a bit frantic…because it had taken me about 45 minutes to find them (including trying them all on).
Sales Lady: “I put them right here. I’m not sure.” She looks around in confusion. “I guess someone took them,” she said in a sort of blasé manner.
I’m angry but trying not to freak out. I see a couple of items that were mine on a rack a few feet away. I grab them angrily and start my search all over again. About thirty minutes later, I have another outfit in hand (this time refusing to let go of my items). I’m sweating from trying on so many different outfits. I’m thirsty. I’m frustrated. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m obviously not one of those typical women who love to shop. I’m done.
Angry with Shopping,
by Mommy Sophia
