Weighty matters
I was invited to a wedding where the reception will be held at a bee-yoo-tee-ful restored building complete with fancy ballroom. We were encouraged to come "dressed to the nines," to complement the decor, and just have fun getting dressed up. I mean, how often do you actually get to wear a ball gown or white tux with tails (unless you're a serious ballroom dancer, as both the bride and groom are)? No problemo, I thought, I have the little dark green number that did first duty as the bridesmaid dress at my sister's wedding, and then got tailored to above-the-knee for use as a cocktail dress.
No dice. It's been just too long, and I've gained just too much weight to fit into it. ourika came to my rescue (or so I thought) with something she said I could certainly borrow. "It should fit - it'll probably be less than floor length on you, but that's not a problem, is it?" I assured her that tea length was just peachy, and off we went to the storage closet to dig it out. I loved it at first glance. Gorgeous dark blue color with a hint of teal, and a size 12. Having only just recently graduated to that size in slacks, I figured that'd be just perfect.
Guh. The sides of the zipper didn't get closer than an inch and a half from one another around the armpit/shoulder area. Now, in my defense, it's a designer maker, which means that the sizes run rather small, but this was just the last straw. I'm tired of things not fitting right. I'm tired of things not fitting at all. I'm tired of having to relegate things to the "when I get rid of the love handles" category. It's just time to do something about it.
I'm officially on a diet. And I've begun an exercise regimen. I'm not really going to concern myself with the actual weight lost - numbers don't mean squat. It's whether or not I can do physical things I used to be able to, and whether or not parts that aren't supposed to jiggle do. I'd be perfectly happy if I lost no weight at all, just converted what I've got into a more compact and healthy form. Because, underneath it all, that's what I'm frustrated about. Not the extra pounds or need to buy new clothes, but how unhealthy it is to carry around extra weight, and how many things I used to be able to do and now can't.
Wish me not luck, but fortitude and speedy progress.
No dice. It's been just too long, and I've gained just too much weight to fit into it. ourika came to my rescue (or so I thought) with something she said I could certainly borrow. "It should fit - it'll probably be less than floor length on you, but that's not a problem, is it?" I assured her that tea length was just peachy, and off we went to the storage closet to dig it out. I loved it at first glance. Gorgeous dark blue color with a hint of teal, and a size 12. Having only just recently graduated to that size in slacks, I figured that'd be just perfect.
Guh. The sides of the zipper didn't get closer than an inch and a half from one another around the armpit/shoulder area. Now, in my defense, it's a designer maker, which means that the sizes run rather small, but this was just the last straw. I'm tired of things not fitting right. I'm tired of things not fitting at all. I'm tired of having to relegate things to the "when I get rid of the love handles" category. It's just time to do something about it.
I'm officially on a diet. And I've begun an exercise regimen. I'm not really going to concern myself with the actual weight lost - numbers don't mean squat. It's whether or not I can do physical things I used to be able to, and whether or not parts that aren't supposed to jiggle do. I'd be perfectly happy if I lost no weight at all, just converted what I've got into a more compact and healthy form. Because, underneath it all, that's what I'm frustrated about. Not the extra pounds or need to buy new clothes, but how unhealthy it is to carry around extra weight, and how many things I used to be able to do and now can't.
Wish me not luck, but fortitude and speedy progress.