I hate buying clothes.
It’s not that I don’t like clothes as such (though I don’t usually care much) or that I don’t like to have new clothes, but I hate fitting rooms and full-length mirrors, especially if the shop assistant hovers or, worse, meddles. Most of the stuff shops have isn’t to my taste, anyway; if it is, either it’s made for people without boobs and hips and stuff, or it’s way above my budget. Or both, like the English clothes in the shop where my other half can finally find something that’s timeless and stylish and probably fairly indestructible. The shop assistant there admitted that the women’s clothes there are for English figures, as flat as a board. Also, they’re English country lady clothes, and I don’t want to be that kind of neat all the time.
But there’s Aloria. It caters to re-enactment people, mostly, but they have lots of things that are actually REAL CLOTHES and not costume. Skirts, shirts, vests; and when my other half was in Magdeburg last week he bought me two skirts and two shirts (one very similar to the one I was wearing when we first met, and wore to shreds after that) and a green velvet vest. Valdyan clothes! I put them on –not all at the same time, but the brown skirt and the wide dark red shirt that I suspect is a man’s shirt really— and didn’t want to take them off. Ever. I did change for the Greek restaurant on Saturday night, because (a) they were too warm for the temperature it tends to be there and (b) I didn’t want to spoil them with tomato sauce.
They make medieval-style clothes for German figures, so “large” actually means there’s room for an ample body inside, not “tall and skinny” or “squeeze into this or we’ll fat-shame you”.
It was high time that I got something new, because I had literally (and I mean literally literally) nothing decent to wear in winter. What I’ve got now is not really suitable for a formal occasion, so if anything like that happens I’ll borrow something from a friend with about the same figure and similar tastes and/or make her take me to her favourite shop, which I was going to do anyway.
Now I want headcoverings, too. And a belt with a purse, because once again nothing has pockets. [ETA: except the striped shirt, a nifty straight pocket in the right seam. Invisible from the outside when empty, haven’t tried to carry anything in it yet.]