There should just be Rules

I just finished the last of the peaches and am wearing the remnants of a few slippery runaways who thought that jumping might save them.  Wrong.  I got 'um, and they are now all done and in the freezer.  Thank the good Lord above and my sister, that she did NOT bring me the two bushels I asked for.  Shudddup....I thought a bushel was one of those red basket things they have down at the Farmers market...or maybe a little bigger.  When my sister went to get the peaches from the Farm where they were grown, she about died when she saw one bushel--much less two.  So, she got me two big old boxes and that was plenty, even though they were small 'un's.  I swear to heaven if she'd brought me two bushel's, I'd be out front right now, with my little old peach stand, selling from the curb.  And Sis wouldn't have been a lick a help....she never is. 

Yesterday I had to laugh at myself for how totally insecure I am where girl stuff is concerned.  You'd think having been one, it would be easy.  Trust me--it's NOT.  At least not for me.  I haven't the remotest clue what is cool and what is just totally ick these days for younger gals or even ones my age.  I have zero frame of reference, having dealt with jock straps and smelly socks my entire motherhood career.  Take me to the boy's or Men's department, and I'm hell on wheels.  Girl stuff is just too complicated--- and it changes too fast.  I'm always ten years behind.

With Women's fashion,  I freak out over the smallest decisions and become paralyzed that I'll be nominated to The Great Hall of Tacky, and admitted as a lifetime member.  Now, that's not to say I don't know what I like--I do--it's just when it's a clothes type decision, I'm easy prey for some shifty salesperson and if I'm feeling fat, oh, Lordy..  I can't tell what goes together anymore--- and whether it even should.  There used to be RULES for this stuff and there aren't any anymore, so how does a rules girl know what works, and what is hideous?  Throw in a warped fashion perception and body image issues and  see....we're right back to that sneaky sales gal again.  And there I sit....with a total freakness upon me. 

I think the answer is a personal shopper.  Those gals that can tell instantly what will look good on you and what to avoid.  Hell, if you have an interior designer for your house, why not for your body?  Makes perfect sense to me.  A personal shopper isn't going to want you walking around out there looking like a troll, unless she's just really mean.