The Un-flatterer

Beneath the harsh, downcast glare of light in a dressing room at the mall (my second-least favorite place to be, with the first being a visit to the "female doctor"), I tried on new clothes for the first time in many months. When I recently contemplated stealing a pair of my husband's pants in order to avoid this painful experience, I figured it was finally time to do something about the sad state of my wardrobe.

I don't understand what it is about the lights in those dinky, depressing stalls. While browsing the racks in the store, I might come across several things which, if flattering, could persuade me to plunk down my money. Yet, as I stand there beneath the buzzing light fixture with every hill and bump displayed in unflattering splendor, purchasing a piece of overpriced cotton is the last thing on my mind.

What went through their minds when they were installing those fixtures? They couldn't possibly believe that, through the course of the day, a person will ONLY be lit from directly above their heads. Can you imagine going through your entire day with your eyebrows casting an unrelieved shadow across your cheekbones? You might look vaguely like a neanderthal.

I finally settled on a pair of khakis and a polo. You can't really go wrong with that right? I'll think about the rest of my wardrobe another day. The ten minutes I spent with the Unflatterer, as I like to refer to that 20-watt, ogre-producing bulb, was more than enough to persuade me against another struggle with buttons, zippers, and built-in bras.