The Diet Naked Blog

My Pants Lied

The weird thing about my pants is that they feel the same now, even though I'm forty-three pounds lighter.  Snug waistband, slight sag in the back, a little loose in the legs . . . but these are size 14 jeans and those, well, those were size 18 (with spandex).  (At one point, those size 18 jeans were thrown aside because they were painfully tight, in fact, last January and February--I shall never forget the horror.)

But that's one way I managed to fool myself about how fat I was.  I just bought bigger pants.  So, when my size 14 pants grew too snug, I bought--with regret, dismay and promises (only until I lose ten pounds!)--bigger pants.  Size 16.  Gulp.

And then, what?  How did these pants get so tight?  Summer came and I need shorts and I bought size 18, just so they'd be loose and comfortable, I told myself.  And when jean-season came around again, I couldn't zip up my old jeans without compromising my cardiovascular system (i.e.. strangling my veins and arteries with denim). 

So, then I bought size 18 jeans which were temporary, I mean it!  I would not stay a size 18, no way, no how.  But I did.  (And one time, I even bought a pair of size 20 jeans, but that was after a pregnancy, so it doesn't count.)

That spandex in those jeans gave me the false sense that I was not really all that fat.  After all, you can still buy size 18 in a regular store.  And they were temporary.  And they didn't feel that much different on my body.  (Just remember:  no photographs, please!)

So, all along, my jeans have fit.  And now that I'm in smaller jeans, I feel the same as I did when I was in bigger jeans . . . if I judge by the feel of denim on my body.  This is a little confusing for the part of me that never really saw me as fat. 

But every time I walk by a mirror, I turn sideways, say, "Fourteen!" to remind myself.  And today?  I gave away my two favorite pair of size 18 jeans (with spandex!).

Fourteen.  But temporary, because soon, I'll be saying, "Twelve!"

(The moral of the story?  Never buy bigger jeans!)

What To Wear?

When I went into my fat-coma ten years ago, I'd been wearing leggings.  I had big hair and hot-pink Chuck Taylors in my closet. 

And then, I wandered in an isolated fat-fog of unfashion for ten years, buying clothes to disguise like this Eddie Bauer dress, size XXL:     

I eschewed fashions like low-riding jeans worn with high heels and bra-strap revealing tank tops based on the assertion that if you wore something in one decade, you should not wear it in another.  (Hello, red-orange, wide-legged, polyester pants from fourth grade!  Hello, high-heeled boots and jeans from high school--though I never wore thee, being tall and all.)

I never wore a flirty sundress nor a strappy pair of sandals on my feet (when I gained weight, so did my feet).  Tight t-shirts?  No.  Belly-revealing waistlines?  Good lord, no!  And the world can thank me for never even trying on a pair of Daisy Dukes.  (You're welcome.)

So, I emerge from my fat-decade and what should I behold?  Leggings.  Skinny jeans.  Tunic tops and long sweaters. 

I recognize leggings!  I still own leggings!  (Somewhere in my closet, shoved into hiding when I realized that 1) I was too fat for leggings and 2) leggings were so not fashionable anymore.)  Leggings worked for my figure--I have "good legs," as we apple(dumpling)-shaped girls sometimes do.  The bulky-top worked well on my bulky top . . . you know how fashion gurus would say "pair a skinny top with wide-legged pants" or "never pair a voluminous shirt with a voluminous bottom"?   (No?  Well, I kind of paraphased.)

Anyway, a skinny shirt has never worked for me, unless I want to be Dolly Parton's plain-Jane sister.  Even as a normal-sized woman, the "girls" exceeded the standard, if you know what I mean.  (Once, an asthma doctor I consulted about my 4-year old's wheezing spoke directly to my breasts, which was fine, really, except that my breasts weren't listening.) 

(I'm all rambly and I do apologize.  I previously wrote these same ideas in a clever and amusing post and then while I was fastening my 4-year old's zipper, my computer mysteriously rebooted itself as I cried, "Wha--??  No!!!!")

To sum it up, I have no idea what to wear.  I missed an entire decade of fashion and I wake from my slumber to find . . . leggings?

Well. 

A commenter mentioned that it was smart to have "goal" pants in one's closet.  I agree.  (Oh wait, she was commenting on my idea in the first place.  Nevermind.) 

Anyway, I had two pairs of size 14 Gap jeans in my closet simply because I purchased them at Value Village, a local thrift store.  I paid about seven bucks each.  They are in great shape.  (I'm also wearing a pair right now, and I even zipped them up while fully upright--some of you know what a thrill and victory that is!)  Anyway, I can feel pretty good about wearing them for a short time as I transition to my normal size since I didn't pay very much for them.  That's how I will cobble together a wardrobe while I'm losing weight.  I rely heavily on thrift stores and the clearance rack at Marshall's. 

I hope that by the time I'm a size 12 (normal, for me) or 10 (thin, for me), I will know how to dress myself. 

Meanwhile, does anyone want that Eddie Bauer dress?  (Size XXL, cotton knit, very warm, long--I'm 5'7".)  My loss is your gain.