I stare at my closet and I want to cry.
Not because it’s empty, but because it’s full.
Full of lots and lots of clothes that I spent lots and lots of money for that already don’t fit the way that they’re supposed to.
The True Religion jeans that I wear on a daily basis fall down without a belt. The button down shirts that comprise the other half of my wardrobe all make me look like I’m swimming in them.
And at this rate, none of them are going to fit within the next two or three months.
On the surface, this is a good thing.
There’s no better feeling than purchasing new clothes because your old ones no longer fit, and having them go down in size instead of up. But the issue for me is that my clothing sizes increased steadily over such a long period of time, I don’t technically have very many things to wear that will contour to a new body type.
I know, I know – first world problems.
But it gets even a little bit deeper than just my clothes fitting.
The other morning I was shaving and ended up with a rather large dollup of shaving cream on my hand which I promptly flung into the sink. And with a long “clank” my wedding ring shot off of my finger, bounced and slid around thanks to my fumbling, foamy fingers and ended up going straight for the open drain.
Only a swipe of it out of the sink – and against the bathroom wall – prevented some major plumbing work to get it back. When this is no longer wearable, it will be the second time since I got married in December of 2014 that I’ll be replacing a wedding band for a smaller size.
I’m also a fan of decent watches, and until recently would always have to make sure that the ones that I purchased had an extra link or two included in the purchase (or in the case of my Tissot’s, bought separately) because the standard configuration wouldn’t fit over my wrist.
But the other day I pulled out my Citizen Blue Angels Navihawk and buckled it and I could make a full revolution of the band without putting any sort of stress on the pins. In a nutshell – it’s far too loose to wear on a daily basis.
Then there are the clothes.
While they were, in hindsight, the sturdiest jeans that I’ve ever purchased, there was no legitimate reason for going to the outlet in Livermore and purchasing True Religion jeans – even at outlet prices – simply because they were hip and flashy and happened to have fat sizes. “If I can wear these, I’m not that bad,” I’d tell myself. But when I put a pair on the other day and cinched the belt tight, I could see that there was far more denim around the waist than I actually needed. I unbuckled and pulled the button out and was amazed at how much space these previously snug Size 44 jeans actually had in them (42s are now too loose for me).
So what’s the secret?
I didn’t jump into anything too quickly.
Every other time that I’ve tried to diet and exercise I made some drastic, sweeping changes that wasn’t realistic to maintain. I’d cut out all carbs or give up all soda or go to five Boot Camp classes a week. Naturally, burnout happens and when you’re making yourself miserable doing something that you don’t actually enjoy, it’s usually the first thing to go.
Thanks to Costco, I’ve been eating a lot of pre-cooked and sliced chicken on everything from pita sandwiches to salads. Ever made a smothered chicken breast slider on King’s Hawaiian rolls? They’re amazing, easy to make and relatively cheap, and they definitely beat the burgers that I used to scarf down in record time simply because they were convenient.
I eat vegetables now. After learning that steaming broccoli was as simple as putting water in a steamer and placing it on the stove, I’ve gone through an entire Costco-sized bag and an heading back tomorrow to buy more. Apples, blueberries, walnuts – they’re all amazing, and better than the bags of Doritos that I would scarf down at 3 a.m. without even batting an eye.
But it’s a slow progression.
I’ve learned at this point in my life that slow and steady wins the race, and while I’m nowhere near the beach body that most people shoot for when they hit the gym post-New Year’s, I’m definitely in a much better position than I was at this time last year.
To think that I ever actually told myself that I shouldn’t lose weight because I spent too much money (a lot) on clothes was ridiculous.
But it doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my face as I stare into this oversized closet with threads that just won’t cut it anymore.
Rest in peace wardrobe.
Maybe soon I’ll be able to buy something off the rack instead of custom ordering it or shopping at the horrifically overpriced Big and Tall chain stores.
That’s a novel though – being normal.
Why didn’t I think of this before?