Newer, Bigger Clothes

New clothes. New clothes in bigger sizes. 

One of the things I did during our recent trip to Philadelphia was buy some new clothing at Macy’s. They were (as always) having a huge sale, plus I had a 30% off coupon and a very old $40 gift card, so I ended up getting 7 business/business casual tops and a pair of pants for just about $115. (As always, I am not getting compensated to write this. I just really love Macy’s. I will definitely accept free stuff though, Macy's!)

These last 10-15 pounds from the summer gain seem to have all gone to my stomach and ass, which are definitely both areas that I like to cover as a general rule. But these days, getting dressed in the morning has actually become stressful as I keep trying to find things that look decent instead of terrible for work. I'm not looking to look amazing, just to be wearing simple clothes that do their job and don't make my body actively look worse than it is. Instead, I end up in clothing that I can clearly see is just really unflattering. Not obscene or skintight, just snug and very unflattering. Think the "Is she pregnant or just fat?" fall look.

I realized that this was making me feel even worse about myself, and that buying clothes that fit better is not “rewarding” weight gain or encouraging me to gain more, and I don't deserve to wear too snug clothes and feel like I look terrible, not to mention just unprofessional.

One of the most popular posts on this site is where I wrote about why goal weight clothes are pointless. The flip side of that is something I realized over the trip: having clothes that fit is important too. 

I hate, hate, hate buying clothes in bigger sizes, especially when I have theoretically have a lot of clothes that "should" fit, but what I hate more is always feeling like I just look messy.

So, bottom line: I'm still very uncomfortable in my body - working on it, more on that later - but I don't want to feel terrible about myself in the meanwhile. If you're in my shoes too, see if you can spare even $50 to buy a couple of things that you can at least feel okay in.

I'll Do It When I'm Skinny

Our firm’s annual summer outing was on Monday. They hold it in the same place every year: a nice Country Club upstate. Most employees bring their families and there’s a golf game, tennis tournament, swimming, and lots of food. As I mentioned on Sunday, it’s a pretty low-key day and if you’re not good at golf or tennis, the main thing to do is hang out by the pool.

Last year, we went swimming and I wore a bathing suit that I had just purchased the day before.  And shorts. Someday I will be comfortable enough to walk around in completely bare legs, but definitely not right now. The reason for the last minute purchase was that I hadn't gone swimming in several years and didn't have any bathing suits. Not even ones that were too small. Just none.

J wanted to go swimming again this year, since it’s the main activity available. I didn't want to, but the only reason against it I could come up with was “I’m uncomfortable walking around in a bathing suit.” He pointed out, correctly, that this was a lame reason, especially since I had walked around in my runway-ready bathing suit and shorts ensemble last year at only ten pounds lighter.

So we went. We swam. I got a weird sunburn on a corner of my shoulder where I missed a spot with the sunscreen. We had a great time hanging out with my coworkers, and I even did pretty okay on the eating front. I’m glad I didn't let my weight stop me from doing something I ultimately enjoyed.

There have been other occasions when I didn't do something because I was too self-conscious about my weight. It's one of the silly reasons I didn't work out or wear bright summer patterns for a long time. Or try skydiving, or para-sailing when I had the opportunity. But screw that. Fine, I’m fat. But I’m wearing a one-piece and shorts. Nobody would really notice or care about my weight unless I was walking around in a string bikini or fishing for compliments about how hot I am.

This issue has manifested itself in other ways, like when I realized that I constantly wear my hair up in a random ponytail or bun to work because I can't bother to wash it and style it a little, or don't try enough to shop for clothes that look nice and are flattering on my size 14-16 body.

I can’t allow my weight to stop me when I know that being self-conscious of it is the only reason I’m not doing something. So when it’s relevant, I ask myself, would I be doing this if I was thinner, comfortable with my body? If the answer is yes, then the next step is to do it. So I go swimming.

I'm getting better at allowing myself to put best self forward, or at least my "I give a shit" self forward, even on non-special occasion days, to make an effort, to go swimming, and not let the silly little voice that tells me not to bother because I can't be at my best self at this weight, so what's the point? That little voice is stupid, and I'm not listening.

No Lightbulb Moments, Final Part: How I Gained Most of it Back

Part one here, part two in the post just before this or here.

So, what happened?

I was this close to hitting the official fifty-pound mark when everything in my life changed over the course of a few months - I got married, moved into a new apartment, and started at my first post-grad, full-time job. They were wonderful, inevitable changes, but they still knocked me on my suddenly growing ass.

I should have seen it coming, having planned the wedding and applied for the jobs, but somehow I didn't realize that even the most wonderful changes take some adjusting. I didn't realize how much I had relied on having such a free schedule, so when I no longer had all the time in the world, I didn't bother to make the time to exercise or eat right. 

There was also the normal amount of stress that comes from setting up a new household and learning how to perform at a new job. I let those things take over my energy so much that focusing on losing weight seemed like a laughable goal on top of everything else. And because I have no middle ground when it comes to food, over those eight or so months, I gained about 35 of the 50 back. 

That is where I'm starting from now. 

I realize there are so many similarities between the two times I gained a large amount of weight - the first time I reached 200 pounds, and last year when I let normal but busy life take over. It was really the denial that got me there, the denial that I was slipping, letting old habits creep back and eating for no other reason than I was bored, stressed, or that the food was in front of me. I think that's the single biggest factor in my weight gain - I couldn't acknowledge that I was gaining weight again, let alone how much.

I'm just having a muffin. Wait, did I also have one this morning?

Sometimes it's hard not to get angry at myself for having gained so much weight back. It sucks in practical ways, like having to buy new, bigger clothing after I gleefully gave away everything that had gotten too big, certain that I would never need it again. I don't exactly love when I see old friends or acquaintances and realize how much healthier I was last time we met. But mostly it sucks because I let myself down, and all that hard work is now gone. I'm back to where I started. 

However, just like I won't feel guilty over the food I eat, there is really nothing good that can come of being angry at myself. Guilt is not a motivator. I just have to do what I'm doing, which is to keep going,  and lose the weight (again). 

No Lightbulb Moments, Part Two: How I Lost Fifty Pounds

Part one here, or go back a bit. 

After finally facing the fact that at 200 pounds, I had reached the highest weight of my life, I started watching my calories. I lost 20 pounds during the fall of my sophomore year. At 180 pounds, I had a long way to go, but I was happy just to have started to tackle this issue, and to have made some progress. I was also thrilled at how easily those first pounds had come off, and felt like fifty more was totally doable. 

Not surprisingly, it didn't quite work out that easily. For next few years, my overall weight had a downward trend, but it moved very slowly. I mostly maintained the loss during the rest of sophomore year, then slowly lost ten pounds or so during the fall abroad semester of my junior year, for a total of 30 pounds. But when I got back to the U.S. and realized that reverse culture shock wasn't just a weird fad, I didn't deal with it well and ended up gaining back some of the weight. That summer I was even less careful, and gained even more.

At the beginning of senior year, I was ready to try again. I joined Weight Watchers at 185 pounds and loved it. I counted points, measured portions, and worked out at the University gym across the street from my dorm. I also went to weekly Weight Watchers meetings, led by an enthusiastic, entertaining man who had lost 60 pounds, and attended by a group of loyal, fun participants.

 I graduated college at 160 pounds, my lowest weight since high school and forty pounds down total. I felt like I was finally on my way, for real.

College graduation, 2012

College, at least for me, was an ideal environment in which to lose weight. I was lucky: a very flexible part-time job, a reasonable class/exam schedule, and a kitchen in my suite (with three roommates who rarely cooked).

 I could leisurely grocery shop at two in the afternoon, I could spend an hour preparing lunch at noon after class, I could go to the gym that was right across the street after class ended at eleven a.m. There were no major stressors in my life and I could focus most of my time on "project lose weight." My schedule was my own with which to be selfish. 

There were a lot of naps.

After graduation, I lived at home for a few months while I tried to find a job. Though I spent extensive time sending my resume into the black hole where most applications go to die, there was still plenty of downtime. I was lucky that I did not have to work at a minimum wage job while trying to become gainfully employed, and could still focus on weight loss. I started personal training at the nearby gym where my parents were members, and learned a bit about lifting weights. 

 I was in control of the food, instead of the other way around. I could eat something, or choose not to, either one was okay. I wasn't perfect, but my good attitude allowed me to quickly move on from slip-ups and focus on the long term.

During this time after college and before I started my job - about six months - I only lost 5-10 pounds, but there was a huge difference in my body and I'm sure that I had gained some muscle in addition to losing fat. I felt stronger and leaner, and clothes were so much easier to find. 

I was almost at the fifty-pound-loss mark and so fucking confident. I felt so accomplished, I had done the impossible. I had done this thing that so many people struggle with. If I could do this, I could do anything! I wasn't holding myself back any longer.

I wondered if I could put weight loss on a resume - hey hiring manager, how's this for dedication!

Video resume?

This new confidence made me realize just how much I had allowed my weight to hinder me in the past, how little confidence or self-esteem I'd had. I let it stop me from joining things I would probably have loved in college, like the improv group or school paper. 

While the main reward of losing weight was how fantastic I felt, there were other perks. I wore sleeveless tops and felt comfortable with it for the first time in my life. I wore clothes that hadn't fit since high school, and got compliments from people who didn't even know I was trying to lose weight. I daydreamed about going to my high school reunion, as the only person to come back looking better than when they had left and sexily flipping off my former bullies (who would of course have potbellies and be wearing atrocious toupees). I got a thrill being hit on occasionally, a new experience.

I didn't tell anyone about my weight loss who didn't ask me about it first, but I walked around and lived life with this new faith in myself. 

Then, of course, I gained almost all of it back which I where I started from a few months ago.

I will post How I Gained it All Back: Food and Laziness, tonight or tomorrow as I'm still editing it. I know, the suspense is killing me too. 

Vanity Sizing: Just Making Everyone Feel Worse

Not too long ago, I found myself trying to find a purple dress for a friend's wedding. I unsuccessfully went through rack after rack at Macy's. Though purple is apparently "in" this season, everything was either several hundred dollars, or not the right size.

I found a dress that looked pretty nice, was in budget - but a size ten. Screw it, I thought, it looks kind of big, and I took it to the dressing room.

It fit. Perfectly. It even looked okay.

I guess she just couldn't ... address the situation.

Welcome to vanity sizing, one of many mindfucks of clothing stores, ruled by Anne Taylor, Old Navy, and the maker of my dress, Donna Ricco. (Others include: why does this bag cost over $2,300?)

Sizes are shrinking so quickly that in a few years, they'll just get rid of them and we will substitute random colors, or Italian words for fancy stores sizes.

Am I a size baciare or ipoteca? Or should I look in the Potansanto section?

At first, the smallest female size was an eight - now it's a double zero. If you currently wear a size eight, you would have been buying a size fourteen or sixteen in 1958. A size 4-6 in 1995 was equivalent to a two in 2011. And in 2014, I walked my 37-inch waist into a department store and bought a size ten.

Why vanity size? Money, of course. Women buy more clothing when they're feeling good about themselves, and a way to make them feel good is to convince them they've just fit into a smaller size. The average women will choose the size eight dress in brand A instead of the identically sized but marked smaller dress in brand B, even if it's more expensive. Profits go to Brand A.

Since female sizing barely had any actual meaning in the first place, it's easy for those evil, money-grubbing executives to continue shrinking them.

Typical quarterly meeting.

An unintended affect of this kind of sizing is that legitimately slim women have trouble finding clothes. They're too small for the XS sizing, even though they look and are perfectly healthy. It's easy to forget that when the larger sizes continuously shrink, the actually small sizes become laughably small, hence the double-zero sizing.

A person can walk into a store, look around, look at sizes, and still have no idea what will fit.

I would truly rather be a size twenty, in every store, than a size 10 here and 16 there.