What exactly is this horrible affliction? Clothing. Clothing and the fact that my body seems to naturally reject most forms of it.
I kid you not, I swear that my body has a deep desire for me to be a nudist, however, I am probably the least comfortable in my own skin. And everyone I have made this complaint to is filled with advice about how I am doing clothes wrong!
"You're just not wearing the right size!"
"The stretch is probably worn out."
"You need a pair with more stretch."
"You need a pair with less stretch."
"Wear a belt with it."
Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. And done. I have been through fat stages, skinny stages, I have bought clothes that fit just a little looser, just a little tighter, the kind that fit exactly perfect for the contours of my body. Something ALWAYS goes wrong. I don't know of anyone else who frequently has to find creative ways of trying to keep pants from sliding off of their bum, who have to find a pillar to hide behind as they fish their underwear back up their pantleg, who bursts out of sports bras/tops, who has swimsuits mysteriously dissolve in pool water as if it was never designed to withstand such a thing.
I have no explanation for why this is a thing. I don't get all of my clothes from the same place. Not the same style. Not even the same materials. From granny panties to thongs, something notoriously slides down. Belts split in two, or somehow get left behind in a seat I was just sitting in. It makes no logical sense why wearing clothes is such a hassle for me. I have to put a lot of thought into what exactly my activities will be for the day, and then choose every item very carefully. Even then, all it takes is for me to be in a compromising position such as, carrying a heavy box that requires two hands, needing to walk home, having to stand on the bus or the train. Whatever situation demands of me to be in the public eye with no safe place to adjust, even my most fool-proof ensemble will find some way to fall apart. Sometimes gradually, other times in a flash - literally!
Again, I don't know why this is a thing for me. It isn't like I'm constantly tripping on my own attire, but it definitely seems to happen to me more so than anyone else. And this isn't a recent thing. My earliest memory of it is around the age of 10. For all I know, toddler me was busting out of clothes left, right and centre.
Maybe I made a birthday wish after struggling with tough buttons in kindergarten, or someone was jealous of my awesome Ewok t-shirt and hexed me. Whatever happened, someone direct me to the god(s) responsible for clothing. I will beg. I will plead. I will build them a shrine. Just please let the clothes stay on my curvy parts until I purposely decide to remove them; that's all I ask!
And, yes, I ask this today because it totally just happened to me again! Luckily no one got flashed!