Flatterer

I can't help but notice that good men who truly care about a woman, tend to view her physical attributes through slightly rose-tinted glasses. As flattering as that may be, it can't be practical in every day life.

James had T-shirts made, advertising the pub, giving the much of the first second runs out to his regulars as a kind of thanks-for-your-continued-custom gift. These were heavy cotton long-sleeved Ts, in sizes running from men's medium to men's XXL. He ordered them in a heathered grey, in a deep navy, and the T-shirt place threw in a single dark green for free. All had a logo somewhat resembling that of Celtic FC (his favorite team, of course). I was not given any these.

Instead, James wanted my input on having a shirt made up especially for me. While I probably like Celtic more than most American women, when given a choice, I opted to have an image depicting facade of the pub itself. Of my three favorite colors, we chose brown and orange for my shirt. (I have more than enough green clothes, as James pointed out.) Though I wanted brown printing on an orange shirt, James convinced me to do the opposite.

longstoryshort:

I wanted a men's medium. Big, loose clothes are comfortable, and help me blend into shadows. James thought I was being ridiculous and wouldn't order anything larger than a men's small or women's medium. So be it. The shirt was to be a gift, after all.

Except that's not what happened. Somehow, in the ordering process, the "or women's medium" was lost, and when the printer translated the shirt into women's sizes (he'd met me and knew that I was a smallish woman), made me a women's small, instead.

The shirt, which James presented to me with a flourish (and a warning that it was smaller than I wanted) last night, is absolutely beautiful!! I mean, it is gorgeous. Lovelier than any of the ones he gave out to the men who hang out in the pub. And he was also right about orange on brown looking better than the reverse.

But, the shirt is too small for me. That is, it's too small for my tastes.

Yes, I have a closet full of skimpy tops which I wear quite often. But those are aways, always used with layered outfits. I strip off or add layers, as needed, when wearing them.

But I can't layer anything over my lovely shirt. It would kind of defeat the purpose. It's not practical for an active-but-clumsy woman like me.

I was uncomfortable with the fit, but I modelled for James and his patrons, anyway.

"It's cute," said the only other woman in the bar. "Not too small at all -- as long as it doesn't shrink in the wash."

James, of course, told me I looked great.

"I was worried that logo was too big when I saw how small the shirt turned out to be," he said, eyeing the orange building covering my left breast, "but it looks great. Better than I could have imagined."

And judging by the glint in his eyes when he said it, he meant every word.