An American in Provence

It has finally happened. I am in desperate need of clothes. And I am not just saying this in the average woman way.
I don't really like shopping for clothes.
But now I really need to do something about this.
My pair of black ankle-boots that I wear to work: one zipper handle came off, so I currently have a paper clip looped through.
My sweaters: due to some recent unfortunate laundry incidents, I have about two usable sweaters. The rest are either: shrunken, impossibly wrinkled, covered in unremovable fuzz, or stained.
My pants: I have three pairs- one khaki one that Alain says does not look good on me. One grey one that is functional. One black velvety pair that is covered in the unremovable fuzz.
(I do have other pairs, but since I have yay! lost weight, they look like clown pants.)
My jeans: Ripped. One in the derriere and one in the leg from when I was throwing out the trash and it got caught on a nail on the trash can. Sigh.

I should have bought clothes during the semi-annual sales, but I wanted to wait and see what everyone else at my work was wearing.
But now that I am starting to be unpresentable, I think I need to get moving.
(Oh yeah, and the black velvety covered in white fuzz pants also need to be hemmed.)
Yay for every other Friday off!