Saturday night (part 2)

It was a good job I had poured myself that glass of wine as things started to go down hill pretty rapidly. I explained to the girls we were going for the smart/ casual look, which went onto a second conversation explaining what smart/casual means (look at me shaping young minds!!). Inspired by a full understanding of the brief the girls took great delight in pulling out every item of their mothers clothing and offering it to me to try on.

Due to having poly cystic ovaries, liking food and loathing sit ups I struggle with weight around my middle. This is something that has always annoyed me as my arms, shoulders and legs are skinny(ish) and I have recently lost my double chin due to my cycling obsession. However, I am very aware of that I have a “muffin top” and so when deciding what to wear I always want to ensure that my stomach is hidden. I do not want to be one of those woman that people look at and think “she’s kidding herself she’s that size” or “if she’d have only gone a size bigger that would have really suited her”. So when trying on the different outfits I did some in head criticisms of how I looked.

I was very aware that I did not want the two girls to over hear me criticising myself. I don’t want to be responsible for them doing the same thing in years to come, and I know my body is not as bad as I think it is in my head. However I must have let some comment slip through my lips because soon, with each different outfit, as I stood assessing myself in the mirror, I was told “look at your belly in that”, “do you think your too chubby for that one too?” then as I was handed outfits “do you think you’ll fit into this one” or “this one looks bigger”. It all become too much when I was finally told “that one doesn’t even do up” to which I responded with a slightly short “that’s because I have boobs and your mother doesn’t”.

I have to say when I finally found an outfit I was happy with I was not feeling the 1000$ I was hoping I would. But don’t worry the girls didn’t just help build up my confidence before hitting the town as when my friend got out the shower her eldest looked at her and let out a very loud “yuck mummy what have you done to your face.”

Saturday night

It was Saturday night. I am young(ish) free (from commitment, so long as you ignore the mortgage) and single (despite not wanting to be) and I decided that I needed to drag myself out and have a great time. I enrolled the help of one of my long suffering friends, and a night of fun and dancing away troubles until the small hours was agreed upon. The plan was changed slightly when my long suffering friend realised that she had her girls and so would need a baby sitter and altered to a drink in the local pub when said baby sitter had to be home at a reasonable hour. However, I was still going out on a Saturday night and looking forward to it…although after a day of DIY I was less keen, but it had been my idea so I wasn’t able to cancel, especially as a baby sitter had been booked!

Knowing we were going to the local pub I put on a smart top and some jeans. That statement was not as easy as it may sound, you see when I moved in with him I went through my wardrobe and threw away all my clothes that I hadn’t warn during the time we had been together. Obviously I still have draws rammed full of clothes, a fair few pairs of shoes and a double wardrobe of dresses (I’m still a woman) but would you believe I often have nothing to wear? My dresses were either too summer holiday, too smart or too short; same rule applied to my skirts. The tops were either too casual or made me resemble a nun (I wanted to show a little flesh!) the shoes I decided on were lovely, until I realised they were peep toe and I hadn’t had time to paint my toe nails and so I threw on my trusty black heels and headed to collect my friend.

I turned up on her doorstep just as she was jumping in the shower, although before she got in she asked “what are you wearing tonight”. I told her the clothes I was wearing and she said “oh, I was going to go a bit more dressed up, do you fancy raiding my wardrobe?” So whilst she showered I spent another 20 minutes starring at her wardrobe wondering what the hell I was going to wear.

The problem this time was not the lack of clothing but more the very different shapes of mine and my friends body. I have curves, boobs and am 5 ft 4. She is tall, skinny and does not have boobs. The great thing is that we can, and have on many occasions fitted into each others clothes so I wasn’t completely panicked and I do love raiding other peoples wardrobes all I had to do was find the right item. Luckily, I had her two darling daughters on hand to help me. “How about this one” they said as they pulled out a short, lacey black and gold number “or this one” as out came a full length black valor gown. I poured myself a glass of wine.

To be continued…..

How not to loose weight!

I want to start off by pointing out that despite once being identified as obese by a doctor (different rant, another time) I know that I am not fat and don’t have a particularly bad body. In fact since I started to cycle to work I have never felt healthier and happier in my body.

I average a UK size 10 – 12 depending on the store I am shopping in. Occasionally I will fit into a size 8, which results in my immediately buying it regardless of what the item is, whether or not I need the item or whether or not I like the item. occasionally I will need a size 14 which results in a walk out of the shop vowing never to return – just me?!
Annoyingly I come from a skinny family, my mother complains about size 6 clothes hanging off her and my little sister has to force feed herself ice-cream and chocolate to stay a size 6/8 (I know) so I have always been aware I am the ‘fat’ one, who has on many occasions disregarded every item in my wardrobe because no matter what I put on I look feel fat and you can see my muffin top. I think it’s why I love shoes – generally they don’t let you down and almost always fit!

The annoying thing about my body is that by ranging between a 10 – 12, I am actually a size 11. Size 10s give me a slight muffin top and (sorry guys) if it is that time of the month they can be a bit tight and sometimes a top button gets undone. However the size 12s grow as they are warn and so end up hanging off me thin but scruffy and sometimes this look results in adding on weight making me look fatter than I am (never a good look!).

Before the holiday I was on a bit of a health kick, cycling into work daily and so really fought against buying any new clothes until I had lost the weight, toned up and could always comfortably fit a 10. However my one generous pair of trousers had other ideas and fell apart before I went away (you can only hide that there is only 1 out of 4 buttons remaining on your trousers for so long) So I went into my local store and bought a pair of trousers that I knew would be big, baggy and fit me regardless of the date (sorry again guys, unless that meaning was missed in which case sorry for pointing it out!)

On my return from holiday broken hearted (melodramatic but true!) knowing I will have put on some weight. I took an educated guess that after 2 weeks of living on pain au chocolat for breakfast, red wine, good great food and reduced exercise, I couldn’t face the idea of squeezing into a pair of my smaller trousers which may or may not still fit. So I reached for the larger ones, which are being very well behaved and hanging off my hips giving the impression of a toned, tanned stomach. However this means that I am currently eating everything and anything I can get my hands on to distract my mind. I have single handily eaten the majority of biscuits I bought back from France for the office, I have eaten the chocolates offered round, the biscuits which were accidentally left open before holiday, treated myself to a couple of after lunch hot chocolates, puddings, a glass of wine or three….. the list goes on.

On the positive getting all the weight off will keep my mind occupied when I finally move out, but it isn’t going to be as much fun without my furry work out companion….. O and by that I mean BD not OH!!

Oops