Supersize me
You know, shopping when I'm in a good mood is difficult, but shopping when I'm moody and irritable? Well, I seriously don't know why I even tried.
I've been doing Dr Fun Killer's regime for almost three months now and I've lost a decent amount of weight. My tops are loose on me, my legs and arms are changing shape, I have almost no chest left (not that I care, coz really I prefer it that way), and my jeans are about to fall off me. If I sit down, they're so baggy at the back that...well let's just say I try to avoid sitting in open backed chairs and having people stand behind me.
So off I trundled yesterday to a store I thought would offer me at least a couple of options in the jeans and trousers department, this store being the only one in the past year that has had anything that's remotely looked like fitting me. I was confident. They had a big range displayed and I was being open minded about what I wanted. Heck, honestly, I woulda been happy with anything that fit.
I kid you not, I entered the change rooms 4 times, each time with 4 or 5 items and NOT ONE DAMN THING fit properly!! I really, really would like someone to explain to me how jeans in my size - the size that are TOO BIG for me now - will not even come up past my thighs. Better yet, I'd like to know how I can try on one style in a particular brand and it's too small, yet I try a SMALLER size in the same brand, different style, and it's too big. I just do not get it!
Meanwhile, I had a major rant to the dressing room attendant, because the clothes on all the racks did not match what their hanger size said.
Honestly, I tried - hard - to find something. I wanted, no, NEEDED to buy something. I've been wearing the same don't-fit-me-anymore pairs of jeans for the last few weeks and I'm going insane. Even the shirts that I tried on, 'my size' didn't fit. Maybe I should just pretend I'm Indian and start wearing saris. At least they appear to be 'one size fits all'.
So I went home sulking and slept for a while before heading off to C's place. He rang shortly before he finished work to see if I wanted to go to dinner. Yeah, I'm feeling fat, I hate myself, take me to a smorgasbord place so I can stuff myself stupid and feel even worse. Ok, so I didn't say that, but I was thinking it as I told him of my joyous mood. Then he suggested that perhaps it wasn't safe for him to be taking me out in public in that state. But we went, and had a good time, and I even stuck to Dr F-K's rules. I didn't even look at the dessert bar. I pretended it was like a mirage and it wasn't really there.
When we got home, we watched Wife Swap and realised we have really, really good lives. I was still bitching about not being able to find anything that fits me. He says, "you should try on my Jag jeans". Hhmmm, not sure I want to humiliate myself another time today, trying on something that's not gonna get past my thighs and will make me cry. "Ok."
Who knew? I'm a men's size 32! Actually, I did already know this. I used to wear my ex's jeans years ago and he was the same size. Mens' jeans are shaped different to womens', coz, well men and women are shaped differently. Appears I'm more of a guy shape. If it wasn't for my long hair and feminine face, the lack of chest and ability to comfortably wear mens' jeans might bother me somewhat more. Only problem? They make me look kinda like a cowboy. They have that guy style bowed-out leg shape. "Do they make me look like a cowboy?" "A little." In my head, that song starts playing. "I wanna be a cowboy, and you can be my cowgirl..." He says I can take them to Sydney if I want to.
Well, shit, nobody knows me up there anymore. Who cares if I look like a cowboy? At least I have something to wear.
I've been doing Dr Fun Killer's regime for almost three months now and I've lost a decent amount of weight. My tops are loose on me, my legs and arms are changing shape, I have almost no chest left (not that I care, coz really I prefer it that way), and my jeans are about to fall off me. If I sit down, they're so baggy at the back that...well let's just say I try to avoid sitting in open backed chairs and having people stand behind me.
So off I trundled yesterday to a store I thought would offer me at least a couple of options in the jeans and trousers department, this store being the only one in the past year that has had anything that's remotely looked like fitting me. I was confident. They had a big range displayed and I was being open minded about what I wanted. Heck, honestly, I woulda been happy with anything that fit.
I kid you not, I entered the change rooms 4 times, each time with 4 or 5 items and NOT ONE DAMN THING fit properly!! I really, really would like someone to explain to me how jeans in my size - the size that are TOO BIG for me now - will not even come up past my thighs. Better yet, I'd like to know how I can try on one style in a particular brand and it's too small, yet I try a SMALLER size in the same brand, different style, and it's too big. I just do not get it!
Meanwhile, I had a major rant to the dressing room attendant, because the clothes on all the racks did not match what their hanger size said.
Honestly, I tried - hard - to find something. I wanted, no, NEEDED to buy something. I've been wearing the same don't-fit-me-anymore pairs of jeans for the last few weeks and I'm going insane. Even the shirts that I tried on, 'my size' didn't fit. Maybe I should just pretend I'm Indian and start wearing saris. At least they appear to be 'one size fits all'.
So I went home sulking and slept for a while before heading off to C's place. He rang shortly before he finished work to see if I wanted to go to dinner. Yeah, I'm feeling fat, I hate myself, take me to a smorgasbord place so I can stuff myself stupid and feel even worse. Ok, so I didn't say that, but I was thinking it as I told him of my joyous mood. Then he suggested that perhaps it wasn't safe for him to be taking me out in public in that state. But we went, and had a good time, and I even stuck to Dr F-K's rules. I didn't even look at the dessert bar. I pretended it was like a mirage and it wasn't really there.
When we got home, we watched Wife Swap and realised we have really, really good lives. I was still bitching about not being able to find anything that fits me. He says, "you should try on my Jag jeans". Hhmmm, not sure I want to humiliate myself another time today, trying on something that's not gonna get past my thighs and will make me cry. "Ok."
Who knew? I'm a men's size 32! Actually, I did already know this. I used to wear my ex's jeans years ago and he was the same size. Mens' jeans are shaped different to womens', coz, well men and women are shaped differently. Appears I'm more of a guy shape. If it wasn't for my long hair and feminine face, the lack of chest and ability to comfortably wear mens' jeans might bother me somewhat more. Only problem? They make me look kinda like a cowboy. They have that guy style bowed-out leg shape. "Do they make me look like a cowboy?" "A little." In my head, that song starts playing. "I wanna be a cowboy, and you can be my cowgirl..." He says I can take them to Sydney if I want to.
Well, shit, nobody knows me up there anymore. Who cares if I look like a cowboy? At least I have something to wear.
posted by E in Oz at 10:59 am
these thoughts escaped my brain at 10:59 am
1 Comments:
When I was in high school I wore men's jeans a lot because I could count on the sizing (32/34 is 32/34 no matter the brand) and because I like a straight leg. Now I'm afraid of jeans shopping, even though I only have two pairs that fit right now, because the place I buy them has either "Low Rise" or "Super Low Rise" only. I don't want jeans that sit 4 inches below my waist. If my pelvis bones are above the top of my jeans then I'm an unhappy camper.
I have a visit tonight! Hope we get a chance to talk again soon, I know I was distracted the other day, but I was very glad to talk to you. I have an update on the issue I was rambling on about. :)
hugs,
R
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