In my self-proclaimed campaign against expansion, I make it a point to tell people, especially my impressionable daughter, that I’m not doing it because of some society-imposed norm or feelings of inferiority or even concern about my health. I’m really not that socially aware or virtuous. My incentive for trying to slim down is purely petty and financial:
I want to fit in all the clothes in my current closet.
As you all know, I’ve got an extensive wardrobe, but unlike most folks who only wear 20% of their stuff, I really do cycle through the majority of my clothes. Even more so when I attempt compliance with any number of weekly blog linkups.
But if I gain even a smidgen of girth, then my clothes all fit askew and I feel compelled to go shopping to replace the snug bits but I think I’ll lose the weight eventually so I hang on to my old clothes and…well, you can follow that train of thought.
Realistically, though, I know I have to resign myself to a set size. I can’t keep fluctuating like this; it’s awful for my pocketbook and for my psyche. And the older I get and the slower my metabolism becomes, the more I realize that my lifestyle dictates I am that “average American size 12”.
I simply can’t be bothered with a regular exercise regimen – I like to write and watch anime and surf the interwebs too much – and eating healthier/portion control can only go so far.
Therefore, hello size 12. Pleased to meet you. And thank you, Meg Cabot, for providing me with the perfect beach read to vindicate my decision. Because…
Size 12 is not fat. It’s a documented fact. I read it in People magazine.Heather in Size 12 is Not Fat by Meg Cabot
And you, my friend? What’s your beach read-inspired outfit? Do tell…
:: Just the facts, ma’am ::
Top – F21
Skirt – Boohoo
:: Linking ::
52 Pick-me-up @ SpyGirl
:: Scream it from the top of your lungs ::
Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard