The Trouble With Weight Loss…

The Trouble With Weight Loss…

…is that it’s about to cost an absolute fortune in new size clothes! I don’t think my husband, who is ever supportive and encouraging, realised just how successful I’d be at losing weight and how much I’d be changing shape…

Prior to early October (that period I call the “Dark Ages”), I wore almost nothing but black. Varying shades of black were of course acceptable but I rarely wore anything else that might show my shape and size, and apart from jeans, everything I bought was chosen to hide, disguise and cover my lumpy form. Long sleeves, ankle length skirts, tunic tops. Never a rigid waist band – stretch only, thank you. If I wore jeans, my top had to come at least half way down my thighs to cover my backside.

I was a size 24.

When I’ve told friends and family that I was a size 24 I’ve actually heard sharp intakes of breath. “You were NEVER that big” is a common response to my admission. Well you heard me right friends, I was a size 24.  I told you I was a Master (Mistress?) of Disguise. Nobody really knew how big I was underneath the carefully chosen costumes I wore.

Six months later, in April this year, I’d managed to fit into a pair of size 18 jeans – a drop of 3 sizes – and I noticed that less and less of my clothes fitted me. I was loathe to get shot of my “big” clothes though – and that’s a common thing, apparently. It’s the fear of returning to the old ways, putting the weight back on and not having anything to wear again.

But by Friday last week, and with my mother-in-law visiting, I realised that I was going to have to wear something other than jeans for our planned meal at an Italian restaurant. So out came the old reliable, black, wide leg trousers that had done me well for the past several years on those more formal occasions.

Size 24 black trousers. So big that I put them on without unfastening them.  So big that the waistband didn’t even touch me.

And they fell straight to the floor.

My MIL walked across the landing to my bedroom to find out why I was laughing hysterically, whilst stood in my underwear with a pair of trousers round my ankles.  So I showed her the trousers – and she said if they came with braces I’d have a great clown costume 😀

So that was it – I spent the next hour going through my entire wardrobe and trying on everything I owned. I didn’t have many clothes anyway – bear in mind that at size 24, clothes shopping was a horrible experience for me and I avoided it at all costs.

And as a result there are now two huge piles of clothing in my dining room destined for eBay. The remaining clothes, apart from 3 or 4 chunky sweaters on a shelf, now take up less than 18 inches of hanging space in my wardrobe.  Oh dear…

So I think I may have to go clothes shopping, and sharpish. I am down to just three bras, and those are too big for me too. I’ve booked a bra fitting at Marks & Spencer for Wednesday afternoon because I now have absolutely NO idea what size I am any more!!

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