the bird, while staring the poofies down, as if the overly length'd bell-fashioned yardage would quickly sprout legs and run away from her disapproving glare. Pink! Are you kidding me! What kind of simpette...the garments' ruffled hems were raising her hackles. She turned to the rack facing her; there was one, and only one, outfit she was interested in - a smart looking camel-shaded heavy silk pantsuit. But it was a size ten. Carla took a 12, if not a 14, but she knew... she - and no one else - was to blame for letting her gym membership lapse. The light gray suit beside it, was double-breasted, but she didn't care for either the buttons, nor the general cut; Carla was so NOT into bell bottoms...too boomer. While she wasn't one to give pricetags much a glance, she couldn't help but to notice, how sssomme garments - especially women's - could have a bu-ku amount of fabric, and yet be priced about the same as a no-nonsense jacket and a matching pair of slacks.
Enough!
Yep kiddies, Carla was experiencing less than a good day. She passed and ignored an overhead flatscreen which was focused upon a certain ugly mug; in the background, crowds were cheering. Hmmph! She then realized, she could use a few extra pairs of long silkies - after all, winter was coming, and due to heating costs, the classrooms temps were to be kept at 67; not quite warm enough, especially, when the winds picked up, against the north side of the school building.
She entered the intimate apparel department, and along the wall she was greeted by...ugh, is this eighteen friggin eighty?? Long bellshaped halfslips, basically silk ones for ladies of means, cottons for working class women. Dressing the dollies, rich and poor, blluck! ... not exactly Carla's idea of economic equality. She left the uper-scale department store and got into her car. Wanting to calm herself, what she wanted, was a good stiff drink - but, uh-uh, that wasn't happening ... bad for the waistline.
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