I spent most of yesterday cleaning out my closet. Such a shame to have more clothes than I can possibly wear in the course of a year, yet somehow the one pair of well fitting slacks, capris, jeans, still seems elusive. Such is the curse of living in a six foot tall body with 36" inseam. Tall sizes have always been ill-fitting on my frame. Either the crotch hangs to my knees or the waistband pulls up to support my bra. With the crotch at the knee, the hem graces my ankles nicely. Pull the waistband up so the hips fit properly and the pants become more like capris, not pleasant in cold weather. Worse yet, slacks shrugged up into the upper regions eventually slide back down to allow the saggy baggage that flatters no one.
Long legs have always been a feature I consider an asset. So why do I complain? Usually I don't. I just keep searching for the perfect pants, thus, a closet full of ill-fitting leg coverings. The local charity thrift shop gladly accepted my rejects from yesterday. I will suppress the urge to continue my quest, summer's coming and shorts are much more forgiving in length.
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