Fact: I dress like an idiot, but it's by accident

Setting: Monday night on Brian's rooftop.


Question: [CrimeNotes], why are you always in jeans?

CrimeNotes: I bought all of my shorts when I was in college. They have holes in the pockets. The last time I wore a pair, my keys and wallet kept falling out.

Old short pants, with hole in pocket.

Question: Idiot, that was years ago. Why don't you buy new shorts?

CrimeNotes: Excellent question. I tried to buy a pair on Friday. I went to Century 21 after work. It's the only place I go to buy clothes because people aren't in your face asking if they can help and there isn't annoying music. It's like shopping in K-Mart. It's big and chaotic and everyone leaves you alone.

But the problem is that everything there is basically on remainder and they didn't have many short pants.

[Here, I was mocked for using the phrase "short pants." People said that they hadn't heard that phrase and that it made me sound like a little boy. I said fine, but I associate the word "shorts" with boxers, and that they'll always be short pants to me.]

After looking around I found some. It was a pair in size 31 and I congratulated myself on achieving a goal. They looked kind of baggy, but not bad. I thought they were normal short pants.

New short pants.

Then I took them home and tried them on. They go below my knees. They're basically like capri pants for men.

So now I have this pair of short pants [more mockery of my word choice] that's brand new, but I'll never wear it because it looks so stupid.

The conversation briefly shifted to how a friend sports male capri pants and their popularity in Europe. It then circles back to why I'm an idiot.

This wasn't an isolated incident, I explain. I hate shopping for clothes. It's my most hated thing. When I'm shopping, I find the first thing that looks roughly acceptable, grab it off the shelf, and run to the register.

But I don't always pay attention to what I'm buying. Like, I've got all of these French cuff shirts sitting around that I'll never wear. I don't even own cuff links. I thought I was just buying normal button-down shirts, then I take them home, go to put them on a hanger, and realize, "Fuck, I've done it again."

Unworn French cuff shirt.

Blog Perv Danielle, Her Majesty the the Queen of 2006 (BPDHMQ2K6): Just get cufflinks and wear them.

CrimeNotes: No way. They're for industrialists and oligarchs. I feel ridiculous enough without wearing them.

BPDHMQ2K6 pointed out that her boyfriend likes French cuff shirts. I immediately offer him several, but despite our similar heights, his shirt size is different. Hence, these shirts will be unused in perpetuity.

CrimeNotes: But wait, it gets worse. One time I thought I was buying a normal dress shirt. When I was at the register the guy gave me this weird look, and it wasn't until I got home that I realized why. It wasn't a dress shirt, it was some weird fucking thing with no buttons.

I've tried to describe this shirt many times, but the only way to do it is through this badly lit photo I just took:

Note the absence of buttons.

It's the dumbest thing I've ever owned, I said. Once I realized my mistake I figured out why the guy at the register looked at me like I was a moron.

Question: Why don't you return all of this stuff?

CrimeNotes: It's too embarrassing. Plus, I keep telling myself that if I'm wasting money like this, I'll start to be careful. Not returning these clothes is my punishment for being stupid.

Question: So you've learned your lesson, right?

CrimeNotes: I think so, but I think that every time. And every time it happens again. It happens whenever I have to buy clothes. I can't help it.

I'm better with work clothes, but even then I buy something and wear it until it's literally fraying at the cuffs and has coffee stains all over.

BPDHMQ2K6's Boyfriend: Basically, you buy clothes every five years.

CrimeNotes: Nah, more often than that. But it's only once every five years that I'll buy something I wear.

The male capri pants and the buttonless shirt.