I envy men. Not only because they STILL make more money for the same work as women, not only because the world is their bathroom, not even because men get distinguished as women get OLD, but mostly because no matter how much weight they gain or lose, their pants still fit.
I'm fairly tall, so a pound gained or lost is distributed over more of me than if I was petite. This is a double-edged sword, because I never notice one or two pounds of water (or double fudge cookie dough blizzard) weight. But at the same time, I have to lose a good 20 lbs before anyone notices. Ahem....13 pounds so far...HELLOOO!!!
But here's the thing: There are 86 lbs between my low and my high weight. And those 86 pounds involved SIX different pants sizes. There has not been one single minute since puberty when I haven't either been trying to get in to a smaller size or trying to get comfortable in the size I was wearing (and had no business in).
My dad wore square pants befores Spongebob made them cool. Every year I could go to Sears and buy my dad jeans for Christmas. Size 34 x 34. Over the years my dad gained a lot of weight (from beer) and lost a lot (from cancer) but his pants size stayed the same. The question was only how low they rode. If they could sit at his waist or if they had to be tucked below his belly, it didn't matter to me or, apparently, to him. And the crack shone regardless.
As if the size and style wasn't enough to confuse us, womens pants come in three lengths. Petite, average and tall. As I said, I'm pretty tall, but I'm not near as tall as I used to be. Pregnancy took an inch off me, but evoluation seems to have taken more. I used to order tall pants from the Tall Girl catalog. Now, anything marked tall would trail a foot behind me, but average is still, more often than not, too short. Factor in the whole 'plus size' thing and the prospect of trying to find pants that fit is about as appealing as the idea of frying bacon nekkid.
Life would be so much easier if I could walk in to the gap and pick up size Y x Z size pants, then just wear them until they fall apart.
Men have all the luck. Bastards.
The Man complains frequently about the "crap" in our house. Through process of elimination I've learned that there are two defining qualities which differentiate "stuff" from "crap"....1) it is for my use only or 2) it existed before he came into my life five years ago.
Most of the clothes in my closet fall into BOTH of those categories. But can you blame me? Those jordache high-rise jeans fit me once!!! Sequinz will be back in style someday. The holes give it a sort of trendy, bohemian vibe. Right? I only need to lose 50 pounds before I can rock them.
So at this point I've lost 13 pounds, and I'm in the same pants I was in when I started. The difference is that now I don't have to thread a rubber band around the button, through the button hole and back around the button to keep them closed. I had NO business in them before, and some would point to my muffintop as evidence that I don't belong in them now...but I AM NOT buying bigger ones. When these become a little more comfortable I will fight the urge to try to squeeze into the largest of the five smaller sizes that hang in my closet. I will try really hard to wait until I BELONG in them to wear them, and hope they don't disintigrate from age before that time comes.
Unless, of course, there's a sale at Kohl's.
Today's Lunch: 6" Subway Tuna Sub with Sun Chips & diet coke. I'm feeding a cold, or am I supposed to starve it until it turns into a fever?