Shopping Nightmare

I am curious to know if I am the only young-ish, short, fat person who has a hard time shopping. By hard time I mean it is a complete and total horror show with me usually ending up in tears in the dressing room or in the car on the way home. I think it is a sick joke on the part of the clothes designers. There is no market for people who are not 18 but not 55 and not 5'5" and 110 lb. I don’t want to dress like my little sister who is 10 years younger than me and I don’t want to dress like my mom (no offense, mom!). And the sales people…
Okay here is some insight into my total hatred for shopping…I go to Old Navy to try to find a top. Is it just me or is everything pink or some kind of offensive pattern? I am more of a gray and black, maybe navy blue, kind of girl, of which I don't see anywhere. Not a good start. As I walk around the store I notice that everything is itty bitty or just not attractive. Finally I came across what looks to be the perfect top on a mannequin. Big enough to cover my post baby blubbery stomach but not so big that it looks like I bought it at the tent sale at Dick’s Sporting Goods. And just as a bonus it is not pink! Dare I get excited?? No, because I can’t find the display of shirts anywhere. Desperate, I seek out a sales person to help me. As I round a corner I am assaulted by first-day-on-the-job-so-I-am-not-yet-jaded Miss Young and Perky Salesperson. She is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. I tell her that I need to find the shirt that is on the mannequin. She looks like she might break into a cheer and do some sort of tumbling sequence over to that part of the store. She doesn’t have a clue so as she guides me around the store she consults her little mind file of recent training tools and asks, “Who are you shopping for today?” So with a tooth-grinding smile I answer that the top is for me. Well this stops Miss Young and Perky in her tracks. She then changes direction and leads me to the plus size section of the store and tells me that I will probably have better luck finding something here. Before a snide comment can cross my lips she adds that the other store in Greensboro also has a maternity section. I stare stupidly into her smiling expectant face and stammer out a thank you. She skips off oblivious to the fact that she just annihilated what little self-esteem I strive to hold onto. So I leave Old Navy with no shirt and my pride limping behind me. I wonder if that tent sale is going on at Dick's?