Tuesday, May 08, 2007
SoHo Homos (Or, Occasional Justice)
I went shopping on Saturday with Torrey. We ended up in SoHo after a long, iced-coffee fueled walk down Fifth Avenue, through the Central Village. One of the joints we went to was A.P.C. - which I gave up on a long, long, long time ago. The days of attempting to squeeze into slim fit, slim cut French clothing is far behind me.
As I sat on a couch, waiting for Torrey, two intensely skinny queens rolled in - up in arms and causing a commotion. They wrangled the first salesperson they could and one of them whelped:
"Um, I bought these 27s last week...and they're already SO baggy! Can you take them in for me? Can I exchange them for a 26?"
Not that it's perfectly apparent here - but the two numbers in question (27 and 26) are waist measurements.
I paused...thinking about how I get excited now about the number 33...and how sometimes - with the right amount of vaseline and alcohol - I can fit into pants with a 33 inch waist and actually move without blinding discomfort.
Before I could get to my own mental bitchery about the situation, the salesman - clearly as taken aback as I was - replied to them:
"You really should start shopping in our women's section. Those jeans would fit you."
As the two queens barrelled over to a women's rack - I caught the salesman's eye just before he let out a silent giggle.