As far as I'm concerned, rompers are this generation's chastity belts.
For real. Somehow I got it in my mind that though I've never owned a romper and summer is two point five weeks from being over, I needed to have a birthday romper for Saturday night (Saturday is my birthday, yippee!!). So I just spent the past hour running in and out of stores searching for the perfect romper.
And let me tell you...those things are difficult. There are straps. Weird criss-cross issues. Sometimes you look like you're wearing a diaper. Sometimes you look like you're wearing grandma shorts. All in all, I don't really understand how these things have stayed in fashion so long.
And more than once there was that sheer moment of panic. That oh my Lord I got this on but I can't get it off. And how will I ever get out of this dressing room? And of course it's always at that moment of contortioning your body out of something you should never have tried on in the first place that the fitting room attendant asks if you're okay. And you pray she doesn't hear the small fear in your voice of I confess I am not skinny enough to be trying this on please don't listen closely in case the seam rips from my shoulder.
Anyways. Once that romper is on, it ain't coming off. I tried to be fashionable, but really I just cock-blocked myself for the whole evening. Rompers. Can't get in 'em, can't get out of 'em.