Life or Something Like It

Clothing Error #574 at JCPenney

Clothing Error #574 at JCPenney

Clothing Error #574 at JCPenney

Here is my Clothing Error #574 at JCPenney. Please, learn from my mistakes.


Cute bohemian, floor-length knit skirt with elastic waist.




Walkie that you must wear when at work is clipped to the elastic waist of the cute skirt.




Cute bohemian skirt hitting the floor while walking through the store.




Wear a cute skirt, but wear tight, brief undies to clip a walkie when walking throughout the store.


Problem solved.


I mean, who does this. Do you know what is sad? That this same incident has happened more than one time. Seriously. I don’t think because my focus is on doing my job. If I have to work to bring my son home, I want to do a great job.

At the time, I was a MOD (Manager On Duty). I was in charge of the shoe department. Those days were a blur, but I did my job to the best of my ability. Sadly, I did not dress to the best of my knowledge. Well, that’s a lie. I did dress well. I didn’t incorporate my walkie-talkie into my clothing choices for the day.

A Moment of Comfort

At least no one saw me, or at least I hope they didn’t see me. If they did, I didn’t hear laughter or snorts from any store area. For that, I can be thankful. There was also a Spanx instead.

Did you know that Spanx is supposed to keep it all up and in when you are on the fluffier side of life? It’s true. So, armed with that knowledge, I got a fake pair of Spanx. My greatest desire was to wear them so that all my stuff was “up and in.”

They didn’t tell you what happens when the perfect storm occurs. A perfect storm is when you buy a size too small, have on too tight clothes (sans Spanx), and are hot. It creates chaos under your clothes.

As I was walking around the store, I noticed this weird phenomenon. It probably looked much like toothpaste being squeezed out of a tube. Here I am, slimmer than normal, and suddenly flat Stanley begins to reinflate. Pop one, and a boob come out. Pop two, the other boob. Pop three, your upper-fat roll, and then it is a series of continued poppage until your fake Spanx is holding the same space as your underwear.

I won’t even go into how long it took me to get OUT of those things in the ladies’ bathroom—so many tears and baby powder…along with layers of skin. I finally got out and realized my clothes didn’t fit without the fake Spanx, so I bought another outfit to put on. My body needed to breathe, bless its heart.


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