April 18, 2006

Good Times, Long Pants

First, a retraction: I want to apologize about what I said about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. I hate misinformation, and I would hate to think that I had led anyone to believe something that isn’t true.

They are actually not married.
I apologize for any grief this may have caused.


The trip up north was pretty fantastic, although not very restful; both nights since I came home I have slept for nine hours. The drive up was pretty easy, since the rain we had been promised held off for much of the weekend, and the weather stayed above sixty the entire trip. Nice. I half-expected snow. My grandmother entertained me by reading things that were far away (“What can I read for you? I’ll read the clock: it’s twenty-seven after. Wait’ll we get in the car—I’ll read all the road signs from way far away.” Like, who in the hell has been letting her drive all this time?) But yes, food and shopping, and the reading of books. I bought some new shoes and some new shelf pants, because I have run out.

YOU:
Um, what’s “shelf pants?”

ME:
I am so very glad you asked.

One of the best things about losing weight (besides the, you know, weight loss) is being able to wear all those clothes that you’ve tucked away in the back of your closet that you couldn’t bear to give away, but wouldn’t wear until they looked perfect on you. Sometimes they fit, and you do the Weight Watchers commercial-esque Dance of Thin People. Sometimes they fit, and you realize they look hideous. Some you even decide to finally give away, knowing that it was only the challenge that kept them in your closet. And when you’ve been at this thing for a very long time, you run out of these clothes.

There’s nothing left on the shelf, or hanging up in the back, that doesn’t fit you (or in some cases, is a bit baggy). It may seem like an indulgent lament: “I’m just so skinny, I have no clothes, won’t anyone cry for me?”, but truthfully, when you start from roughly 200 lbs and make it down to 140, there’s a lot of sizes in between. If you buy more than one pair of pants and a new top at each size, you’re going to drop a lot of cash on clothes that will only fit well for a few weeks. Luckily, I had been given a lot of clothes from my friends in college, and had been living off free pants of various sizes for over a year. When one got baggy, I grabbed the next smallest off the top of the pile in my closet; it was a good system. I have now run out of free pants. I realize this is a good thing, a milestone, and I am proud.

The problem is, now my body thinks it’s done. It knew about the shelf, and the running, and it put them together; the body saw the goal and reached it. Now it has no goal. No tangible waistline to strive for. And it really likes my current pair of “good” jeans (Gap, 10 short. I’ve never had pants fit so well). It sees no reason to drop any more weight, and has comfortably settled into its (not unhealthy) plateau.

My mind, thankfully, has other plans.

So I set out this weekend to find new skinny jeans, and skinny work pants. I chose size 8s, knowing full well they wouldn’t fit. I got them both on sale (because their existence is more mental than practical at this point, they don’t need to be expensive); one is pinstripe and awesome, and the other are from Target and are extra-long, so when they eventually fit I’ll have to take, like, 16 inches off of them. I returned home, immediately clipped the tags and set them on my top shelf, making sure to show them to my stomach and thighs with some vigorous pointing, like trying to train an unruly puppy. I think they got the hint.

They certainly will after tonight’s five miles. Woo!

Note: There’s a sad entry coming up tomorrow, about pets dying. I give you fair warning now, if you can’t handle that kind of thing.

1 comment:

Christine said...

YAY on the new "skinny pants" as I call them. I used to get them for free from my cousin the fashion diva. Unfortunately by the time I fit into them, well, not so fashionable anymore.

Perhaps there is a shopping trip in my future as well.