Remember back in April when I went to my healthy women's exam and realized that I weighed 180 pounds? Remember how I went into panic mode about losing that weight? Well, I've lost ten pounds since then. Yay! I am now somewhere between what I weighed before Chris died and after Chris died. This should be good news. I should be totally happy about this and I am. I've stopped obsessing and I just work a bit harder at the gym and I'm more conscious of the protein source in my meals. And ten pounds! Wow! That's great work! Really. Well done, me.

Then I went to my closet looking for jeans. 

I own two pairs of wide-ish legged jeans that are that nice dark denim. They look great paired with heals or cute sneakers. I'm pretty sure I wore them at some point in my life or why else would they be in my closet. The tag on one pair of jeans says that they're a size 31. The tag on the other has them at a size 30. The same morning I pulled these jeans out of my closet, I had purchased a pair of skinny jeans on sale at Target. They are a size 30. I decided to try on the other jeans to see how they felt. I thought to myself as I started with the size 31 pair that this was going to be good. These jeans are going to be a little bit big now. I tugged them up to my hip and then looked down at the button fly gaping open over my belly. I grabbed the button with my right hand and the button hole side with my left and started wrestling the two closer together. There was no attempting to even pretend that those pants were going to button. This did not bode well for the size 30s, except I pulled those on and buttoned and zipped them up with out having to hold my breath. 

I have other pants hanging in my closet that are not jeans (also sized 30 or 10 or whatever the hell those numbers mean). I call them summer pants because they are either cotton or linen. They have a bit of flare to the leg and go well with slip on kind of shoes. These pants all come from the same store as where I bought the jeans. It is my favorite place in the world to shop because all of the clothes are so pretty. The place is expensive. Stupid expensive. So I only go in about twice a year when they have their 40% off all sale items special going on. I try every thing on that I am considering for purchase and I basically make a pros and cons list for each item. If I'm going to spend the money, it's going to be on something I am going to wear, not just wish I could wear. So I had to have tried those size 31 jeans on and at the time they fit or at least they fit well enough because I would not have purchased them. 

Cut to last weekend when I decided that I needed another pair of skinny jeans for Fall/Winter. I tried on size tens at Old Navy and they fit, but they weren't long enough. They had every other size in a long but the size tens. Then I went to Kolhs where I tried on everything size ten and finally went to a size twelve. The twelves didn't feel any different in fit then the tens, but they had them in long. So I bought the twelves and tried to ignore that even though I've lost ten pounds and wear a size ten, I had to buy a size up. I keep telling myself that it is not really a size up because the people who are in charge of sizing clothes are assholes. I am convinced they have conventions every year where they discuss the best ways to fuck with women's self esteem. Didn't make it into the workshop on how to make a girl feel self conscious about her butt? No worries. We've recorded the workshop and you can access it online. Don't forget to check out the tutorial on fitting room lighting and how to set the mood for the most unflattering fitting room setting. 

Remember at the end of the Color Purple when Celie opened that pants shop where one size fit all? I want those pants. I don't care that the legs are wide. I'm sure I could wrap them around my ankle and tuck them into a boot if need be. I could make it work. I'm ready to embrace that bohemian side of myself where I wear billowy pants with elastic waistbands.