Vanity, Thy Name is Bucky ...

... or Jansport. Or something.

My husband was brave and ventured into the mall before Christmas. To pick out an article of clothing. For me.

For those of you who know my husband, you know what a monumental effort this was on his part. Going to the mall is one thing. Going into a store other than Sears or a jewelry store alone (where he's sure to be in good company of other lost-looking, confused men wandering around) is another. Venturing into a place that sells only clothes is yet another, as is picking out something for me.

Wrapping it himself is really pushing the boundaries of sanity. But he did. (And he used painter's tape, BTW, but I digress.)

Now, the store was The University Bookstore and the article of clothing was a sweet, white Bucky hooded, long-sleeve T-shirt deal. It wasn't exactly like buying me a pair of jeans or a dress, but it still took some courage.

Here's the rub:

1. The shirt he selected was super cute. And he smartly erred on the side of caution and flattery and bought me  a small.
2. It was super cute and super TIGHT. So I ran in and exchanged  it for a medium without a try-on session.
3. The medium was no bigger than the small. So we went back today to try the large. It was barely bigger than the medium.
4. "They have an extra-large," he says pragmatically.
5. Umm. No. Call me vane, but I didn't work this hard for this long to buy an extra-large. Shallow? I'll let you decide.

And here's the kicker:
Two young men come in the store, clearly trying to pick out a gift for a girlfriend. Young Man #1 picks something off a rack and says to Young Man #2: "Are these for women or for kids?" Then he turns to an older woman browsing the same rack, "Are these really for adults?"

Out of the mouths of babes. Welcome to the landmine of women's clothes shopping, dude.