Mirror Image...

I tried on some end-of-summer clothes today.
The fitting room had a two-sided mirror.
I thought I was in the Fun House.

For some reason, my legs looked
wide and short; I looked magnified.
Cellulite seemed to jump right off my legs;
looked like the surface of the moon.

Cheesecake poses are one thing, but
looking cheesy is another… I stand 5’8 at 125,
so the mirrors aren’t doing anyone justice.
Most stores use skinny mirrors.

My side view mirror in my car says
Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.
No kidding...
maybe the same type of glass was used--
I looked like the marshmallow float in Ghostbusters.

Without much deliberation, I removed the
shorts and tank, deciding I could live without them.
I checked myself one more time in the mahogany-framed
floor mirror as I left the store, thoughts of a guava danish
dancing in my head...

Ready To Wear?

Recently I saw a gal in her thirties
wearing jeans with carefully designed holes
and rips along the legs and just under the seat.
Her underwear was peeking through.
It looked as though she had tangled with a bull.

I can’t believe that a person would buy
“damaged” clothing--on purpose!
One pair of ripped jeans was $75 on a
department store sale rack.
They were badly faded and stringy.

A few years ago certain jean manufacturers
were buying back used jeans in any condition
for as much as $40 a pair.
I couldn't figure that one out.

In California I had enough problems
with moths eating holes in some of our shirts.
Too bad holey clothes weren’t a fashion trend
at the time.

Tom has a favorite shirt that he wears
almost constantly.
There’s a large hole near the label.
It's heart-shaped.
Maybe it’ll catch on.
He hates to go shopping…

Sock It To Me...

It's happened again!
Anyone who does the laundry knows what I'm talking about—the case of the disappearing socks!
Where do they go? Are they flushed through to China?
Do they wind up in a water treatment facility, where the 'sock-keeper' makes them into Sock Monkeys?
Have they made their way to an Osprey's nest?

I thought I had the problem whipped after I put them into a zippered lingerie bag.
After the wash, I took the bag out of the washing machine—which, in some mysterious fashion, had become unzipped!
I began pairing up the socks.

Two were missing—the new ones, of course.
The holey-toe ones were there... am I not surprised?
What did the errant socks do—elope to Sockville?
I can see the two mismatched socks now,
one comfortably cuffed within the other--
sipping Socktinis.

I've reached the end of my sock— I mean, rope...