That Little Black Dress. Beautifully crafted with fabric that transformed into ribbon that had been strategically wrapped around me. It hugs every curve like the dress was made for me and only me. I wore it to Barrister’s Ball during my second year of law school. I wore that dress with such confidence, and felt damn sexy in it. And why would’t I? Law school had such a negative effect on me in so many different ways except maybe one- I lost so much weight. All that stress, heavy book lifting, multiple highlighter arm curls, getting my steps in as I paced the Law Library, and running up and down the stairs of my law school’s high rise building really paid off. I had also stopped working out entirely for the first two years because there was absolutely no time for working out. I figured if I had time to workout, then I had time to read and study instead. Screw the low carb diet, try the law school diet.
We all have that one article of clothing. It could be my Little Black Dress, skinny jeans, or a tube top (they are bound to come back into style one of these days). It doesn’t matter what it is but we all have one- the “I Will One Day Fit Into It Again So It Will Hang In My Closet Until The Day I Die And They Have To Pry That Sucker Out Of My Cold Dead Fingers” article of clothing. Its the article of clothing that we leave in our closet hoping to one day fit into again. Its our benchmarker for when we will finally be satisfied with our weight and/or size.
On the other hand, some of us have the exact opposite article of clothing- our Fat Sweats. You know the ones… the ones that you literally have to wash before you can even put them on because they’ve been rolled into a ball in the back of one of your drawers. Its probably not even in your pjs/sweats’ drawer. Its probably rolled into the back of your unmentionables’ drawer for safe keeping. My old-roommate, Shannon, and I had a very fond name for this “fat” outfit. It was our “Football Uniform” because the accompanying shirt was usually the same heather gray as the sweats. It was our secret (well I guess not so secret anymore, sorry Shan) that if we ever wore this outfit in front of a significant other then we felt that person was “our person” and could be trusted to look past the Football Uniform and at the beautiful butterfly inside it. My Fiancé (ahh love saying that), Kevin, calls this outfit my “Golden Gate Griffin Grays” and witnessed this piece of fashion forward art around date number two as I raced for the door to meet Comcast one morning. I, once again, digress.
The point I am making is that we have these various articles of clothing in our possession and I don’t think either of them are doing any of us any favors as we journey on our fight for healthy weight loss. On one hand you have the Little Black Dress. I wore that dress almost TEN years ago. I was in my mid 20s. I don’t have any business trying to look like I did when I was in my mid 20s as I try and own my mid 30s. We have all created this unrealistic expectation that we can travel back in time, defying gravity, and flip our no longer nimble bodies into the Little Black Dress, sashaying in public while heads whip so fast to check out the hot babe that necks literally break. I’m sorry, but it ain’t gonna happen.
We need a new Little Black Dress or a new metaphor. We need to stop trying to move backwards, and instead move forward to a new, healthy goal that works for your mid 30s arthritic toe’d body. I workout more today than I ever have. Before I left for my last trip I literally googled gyms in the area of my hotel in New York. WHO IS THIS PERSON? As I packed for our trip I ran my fingers across that Little Black Dress. THE Little Black Dress, and thought “hmmm I wonder if I should bring it?” WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD I DO THAT TO MYSELF WHEN I HAVE COME THIS FAR! So I passed on it and moved on to dresses I bought in this decade instead. I moved to dresses I bought for 30’s Laura, and when I got home I made the decision that I am going to throw the dress out! Okay, well not actually throw it out. That was more of a visual for you all. I am not a monster. Let me try that again.. and when I got home I requested that ThredUp send me another discard bag and I’ll wait for that bag for about 3-4 weeks and once I receive that bag I will lovingly fold that dress up and place it in the bag which will sit in the corner of my apartment until I have filled that bag and THEN I will put the UPS label on the bag and send it off for someone else to wear and feel like the dress was made for them. And breath. Phew.
Now to the Football Uniform or the Golden Gate Griffin Grays- whatever you may call it in your house. Yep, I see you cowering in the corner. Get out here. See the daylight for the first time in months. You’ve got to go. I know its unfair because we all want to have a “fat” night, but why do we want to have an article of clothing we can wear when we are fat? If you can’t get on this journey for the sake of yourself then do it for your wallet. Throw those fat sweats out and tell yourself “Self, you can’t gain weight because we can’t afford to buy new clothes. End of discussion.”
Now if you lose so much weight that new clothes are a necessity, well then its time to celebrate and please don’t forget to call me to go shopping with you! Who am I kidding? I haven’t stepped into a brick and mortar clothing store in years….. Oh, and the Football Uniform does not go into the ThredUp bag. They do not take articles of clothing with holes in them. Those go into the trash. Now.
Okay, its that time. Its time for a call for action. Walk your hot, curvy butt into your room and grab your Little Black Dress and Football Uniform. Little Black Dress, donate or sell yourself (Might I recommend ThredUp, Poshmark, or eBay?). Football Uniform, burn.
WEIGH IN/MEASUREMENTS: 158.4LBS, Chest 37, Under Boob 30.25, Belly Button 33, Below Hips 38.5, Largest Part of Butt 42.
SONG OF THE WEEK: “Going Out In Style” by Kellie Pickler
Don’t be sad
Don’t you shed one tear
Take me back to the place
I love the most
All my best memories were made
In my time here
Spread my ashes in the shoe department
Everybody knows that’s where I want be
Jimmy choo choo, saks fifth avenue
For all eternity smells like heaven to me