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Mae West was wrong: Too much of a good thing can suck. I'm on a national department store's site that shall remain nameless, looking for a dress to wear to a winter wedding in New York. Clicking "wedding guest" only brings the number of options down to a still-whopping 2,123 dresses.
While being able to filter out the white ones is helpful, "sleeve length" does me no good. A long-sleeve mini could work, but so could a strapless gown. Hell, I'd consider a sleeveless lace jumpsuit if it didn't require Spanx.
As someone who values her intestines, I consider whether I need constrictive undergarments when shopping. I also want something that will go with the one pair of close-toe pumps I own and allow me to lift my arms overhead during "Don't Stop Believin'" without flashing a grandmother. I'll say yes to almost any dress that "skims without clinging," "complements metallic snakeskin," and "falls below my fingertips." Here are the 15 other filters I wish I could use to narrow my search when online shopping.
Once I used something called Hollywood Fashion Tape. Instead of lifting my boobs, it locked them to the plunging neckline of my dress. Lesson learned: No office supply can compare to a pair of underwire cups.
2. Can be worn with tights
Even a button that acted like the Photoshop eyedropper tool but on models' legs would do. I just don't want to have to Google "pussy bow poppy print midi shift" and "style blogger" to see whether a dress can be worn in winter.
Yes, I will stand still on an empty stomach at some point in the day, but I'm also likely to eat cruciferous vegetables, drink multiple cans of LaCroix, and chew gum. I'd like a garment that will expand along with my bloated stomach.
4. Has pockets
Tiny back pockets or fake decorative pockets may flatter my butt, but they leave my hands homeless.
My first winter in New York, I bought a few wool dresses and promptly was in the dermatologist's office for a rash on my torso. If something is going to cause contact dermatitis, I at least want to factor co-pays into the cost.
I refuse to pay $8 to dry-clean a top that cost $20. An expensive one is a maybe, but only if it's not cut so closely to my armpits that it requires the application of chemical solvents every time I wear it.
Sure, that bridesmaid's dress you can style ten ways is versatile, but it's also confusing. This explains why I've worn the Hermés scarf my dad gave me just once; though I've watched tutorials, I still can't figure out how not to look like I'm hiding neck wattle.
If the circle through which I'm supposed to put my head can be confused with an armhole or is so tight it scrapes off all my tinted moisturizer, I don't want to have to pull it over my head ever.
My dark-wash jeans still stain the bottom of my white shirts and the tops of my gray wedges. It's like they've been on their period for five long years.
I don't think I have a freakishly long torso, yet the crotch of nearly every (dry-clean-only, of course) romper I've ever tried on seems to want to give my vagina a wedgie. This seems bad for my gynecological health.
11. Tattoo compatible
I don't have a tattoo, but I imagine inked women would like to be able to select tees with strategic cutouts that show off their scapula or shorts short enough to expose a thigh wrap.
No one wants to have to pull a strapless dress up or down all night, and the same goes for skinny jeans, which tend to droop after you walk a few blocks in them. I want clothing I could continue to wear if I ever became a double amputee.
Walking through the office with the sound of corduroy rubbing between your thighs or the sole of your shoe squeaking is a close second to farting in a meeting.
14. Makes no mark
The dents on the bridge of your nose when you take off your sunglasses are bad enough, but nothing says sexy quite like a bra that leaves you looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy if his skin didn't spring back. No diggity, no doubt.
15. Opaque under fire
With leggings, the fact that they're 7/8-length is moot. (At a little over 5'8", I assume everything hits above my ankle.) What I really want to know is whether they'll necessitate tucking my tampon string in before I do a squat workout.