August 2012 – Page 2 – Christine Elias

My friend S. said he tried smoking in his teens but “it didn’t stick.” I think most teens try smoking — or at least most of my friends did back in the day — and most don’t end up with a collection of lighters in a rainbow of colours.

It’s cool for a week or so, but they cough, feel dizzy and are disgusted by the taste. It just doesn’t stick.

But something very different happened to me when I smoked for the first time — I felt fantastic — alert and relaxed at the same time. My brain felt like it was singing. (There were other experiences like this as a teen, but I have no plans to blog about …..my first time behind the wheel.)

So there I was — a good (perhaps even a goody-two-shoes) student who worked on the yearbook and school paper — hanging out in the smoking area by the tech wing. (In fact, I made quite a few good friends there, but that’s neither here not there, except perhaps for the fact that I’m still pretty darn chatty and I ended up taking some shop classes just for fun. I can still rewire a lamp and I know what a carburetor does.)

Sure, if I could go back in time I’d not try that first (fantastic) cigarette. I would have also tried harder in math class and started my RRSP savings when I got my first job. But I did and I did not.

So yeah, it didn’t help that I ended up in the smoking capital of post-secondary education — journalism school. Hell, we could — and did pretty much non-stop — smoke in the student lounge right across the hall from the writing lab. It was a smelly little room full of angsty writers — and me, the ever chipper wanna-be Christiane Amanpour.

But lately I’ve been smoking a lot less than usual and I’m pretty pleased with myself.

I quit for about two years a while back and my brain didn’t explode.

I think it’s time to say goodbye to gal from the tech wing and the smoking lounge again. I’ll miss her. She was fun.

Maybe I’ll just promise to buy myself a ‘Cuda if I am successful — now that’ll be fun. Perhaps even more fun that a collection of lighters and 20 little friends in my pocket.

This is not about weight. Sure, I could stand to lose perhaps 20 pounds — I have no illusions about this — but I am happy enough with my shape. Not bad at all for my age. Not fantastic either, but such is life. So no, this is not about weight. Not today, anyway.

It’s about pants. Pants I can never find.

Today I visited two Joe Fresh locations in search of a particular pair of black pants. Joe Fresh pants fit me well and I am in need of new black pants.

First location had many, many pairs of the pants in question — in size 0, 2 and 4. (I won’t get into the insaneness of size 0). There were a few pairs in size 8 and, I think, one size 10. None in size 12, 14 or 16. I am a size 14 — sometimes, depending on the pants — a size 12.

I was disappointed, but I knew the more suburban locations often have more selection. So I hit the subway and headed to Scarborough. I’ve had good luck at this location in the past. No today.

There was one size 12 in the brown version of the pants. They were too tight — and besides I wanted the black ones. The black pants were only available in the smallest sizes.

I talked to the teenaged salesperson. She told me the best day to come was either a Monday or Tuesday, when the new stock comes in. But she noted, very few of the bigger sizes even make it to the store. She told me they were lucky if they got in one pair of size 16. One pair!

She said they got a lot of complaints about this. No kidding. She also said that people often came in daily to see if the store had their size.

Of course, I understand why this is a good thing from a marketing perspective. People coming in often buy often. But I can’t (and won’t) hike out to the outer reaches of the city for pants — no matter how much I like them.

That’s it. That’s the story of my day. No pants.

Is it any wonder I prefer to shop online?

Month: August 2012

My misspent youth…

Pants I can never find