The number that the scale recorded at last year’s annual physical shocked me into the realization that I needed to lose weight. A lot of weight. Knowing that it gets harder and harder to accomplish this the older we get, I decided it was time to develop a plan. My goal was to lose 30 pounds before my mid-year checkup and another 10 to 15 by the next annual physical. I came close, losing 28 by mid-year; there’s still three months ‘til my annual. Along the way, I learned some things about weight loss and wardrobes.
Some of the discoveries were good news; some not so great. On the plus side (or not so plus anymore), my calves are finally sized for regular width boots. Before the diet, I could fit into only the wide width styles, but those were so wide, it looked like I was wearing funnels on my legs. So, I stopped wearing high boots, traded them for mukluks and muttered to myself “function over form”. On the minus side, I tossed my regular width boots when I de-cluttered the house to list it, so I’m still wearing mukluks.
Staying with footwear, I also learned that being thinner means my taller socks last longer. Before the diet, my calves stretched out the elastic at the top of my socks within a season. The socks then slipped down into puddles at my ankles. The good news is that with my newly slimmed legs, the elastic in my high socks will last for years. The bad news is that if I diet until I reach my goal, my calves may get so slim the socks will fall down anyway. Garters, anyone?
Moving up my body to slacks, I’m down about two sizes over all, though my waist is apparently on a different schedule from the rest of me. As with the boots, I got rid of much of my too-small wardrobe in preparation for our downsizing. I did save a few pairs of favorite slacks in hopes I could squeeze into them again someday. As it happens, most of those are summer weight.
I need to paint a picture here of how my pants fit as my weight goes up and down. The ideal look is to have them drape in a way that tastefully sculpts my behind. When I put on a few pounds, we get more of a clutching than sculpting. At my extreme weight, the pants were clinging for dear life. Needless to say, I was looking forward to having things fit more tastefully again.
This week I decided to visit the cedar closet on our third floor; that’s where I store my off-season wardrobe. Spring will be here in two or three months and I wanted to see what might fit me this year. I found two pairs of pants that I had kept in the “hope springs eternal” section of the closet. With great anticipation, I tried them on. Keep in mind that there is snow on the ground, and more coming. So there’s no chance of wearing these yet.
Imagine my dismay when I discovered that my lower torso had passed right through “drape” to “droop” where these beloved pants were concerned. They’re passable enough for me to wear them now (barely), but now is not when I need summer weight clothes. Who knows how bad the droop will be after two or three more months of dieting? I refuse to give up on them, however, and I’m considering investing in one of those “Kim Kardashian” butt enhancers that you see on late-night TV.
I’m faring better with some of my favorite jackets. In addition to dieting, I’ve been using hand weights most mornings. My hope is to get some definition to my upper arms and avoid that bat-wing look that we older women get. Extreme weight loss can lead to excess flesh, so if you’ve got it, don’t flaunt it. I doubt I’ll be running around sleeveless anytime soon, although you never know. Read on.
One of the other articles of clothing nostalgia in that “hope springs eternal” section was a tank top from Club Med. It has a visual pun on the front, and the explanation (in French) on the back. I couldn’t bear to part with it. There’s a certain allure to French women, after all, even when they’re Italian. The tank doesn’t go with those pants that droop, but maybe I’ll wear it with them anyway. Perhaps it will direct peoples’ eyes upwards. But if that Kardashian butt enhancer does its job, I’ll probably keep my jacket on.
Hope does indeed spring eternal.