Shame and Depression…

… went jeans shopping on the weekend, ‘nuf said!

Sigh, if only the Australian retail market catered for everyone like the USA, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be feeling like this.  I’ve never been what you’d call a standard size when it comes to jeans, so I wear what I’ve got for as long as I can, and the point is coming where I won’t be able to go out in public!  LOL.

While I’ve apparently shrunk in size (the last time I shopped all jeans were made for statuesque super models and required anywhere from 10 – 15 cm taken off the bottom, and I’m not paying $$$ for something only to pay more to have them actually fit me).  This time, while I’m the correct height for fashion, apparently my thighs are not on spec and I’ll need to have a rib or two removed to allow the inaccurately named waistband to do up.  God help me if I wanted to digest something, that would have to wait until undressing!

So after this weekends depressing* event I’m going to try and eek out my last precious few pairs of American Eagle Outfitter jeans for a whole year until I hit the USA next October.

And as if the above is not tragic enough, in a few months Super Sammie and I are heading to Bali and that requires bathers –  Oh the horror!!  Wish me luck!

 

* I’m using the word depression tongue in cheek here, however I’d like to acknowledge that depression is a very real and serious condition that impacts a lot of people.  If you think you might be suffering, please speak to someone, there is help out there.

 

Back Fat & Booze

One of the “joys” of getting older is watching my body change… it’s doing stuff that I’ve never had to deal with before and I’m not happy about it.  Yeah, yeah, I know, age gracefully, be thankful that I have the chance, so many don’t, etc, etc… trust me I get all that but seriously, why can’t I just stay the shape I was?

I’m pretty lucky, I’m one of these people that have until the last few years been able to eat pretty much what I want and as long as I move a bit my weight doesn’t change a lot.

However, it was brought home to me by a young bra fitter recently that there’s been a change I really don’t like.  I was feeling a bit frumpy, as you do when you reach a certain age and decided that a new bra would cheer me up (why I thought this I have no idea. LOL).   So I trotted off to brand name underwear chain to get fitted.  All the bra’s I tried on provided me with a very sexy (NOT!) and unwelcome extra roll of fat poking out from under the arms and around the back.   “These don’t fit” I confidently tell the fitting assistant “They’re too tight, look at that bulge, let’s try another size”.  She casually looks me over and says “Nope, right size, don’t worry about that, everyone has them” she says in the comforting the old lady tone that only a retail sales assistant can carry off.

My first thought was – hey, I’m not everyone young lady! followed swiftly by, when did this happen to me, I’m not an extra roll of fat kind of person??!!

But you know what, I am now.  Years of booze (and brie)  have added an unwelcome layer of padding to my body.  It’s crept up gradually and I never noticed until I wasn’t happy with what I saw.

So, my existing bra’s aren’t uncomfortable because they are old, they are uncomfortable because I’m inhaling too much sugar and sitting around feeling hungover and sorry for myself.  Right then!

You know what, I’m tired of being tired and not being the best me.  So, 2019 is the year of “YES”, yes to opportunities, yes to new experiences, yes to no booze for the year and yes to recovering me.

PS: day ten no booze and I feel great… day ten is when the happy comes back… day 15 is where I forget what it’s like to drink and crack, so I’m on my guard!