I have lost a little over 30 pounds since March. I have dropped a clothing size as a result. Losing weight is inconvenient. I don’t know if it affects men the same way as women, but there is a psychological aspect to losing weight…
At first, I didn’t notice it, not really. My pants were a little loser and then my pants started requiring help staying up. You know that dream where you are standing in front of a room full of people in your underwear that everyone talks about? I don’t buy the whole “fear of public speaking” aspect of the dream, I think it was probably had by someone losing weight.
You shouldn’t lose more than 3 or 4 pounds a week or 12-16 pounds a month for health reasons. The reason I think that dream is about losing weight is because as I lose weight, I have had some incidents of jerking up my pants out in public before they revealed the downstairs lady bits.
This month, I realized that my size 18 jeans have to go. I have 2 pair left. They are older pairs of jeans that have been washed a thousand times or so. I have already bought 3 pairs of size 16 jeans when I realized in June that I couldn’t put it off any longer. However, over the 4th of July weekend, I wore a pair of my 18s to the store. As I was walking around I realized two things were happening: my underwear had mostly fallen down into my jeans and my jeans were falling off.
With my metal allergy, I have to be very careful about belts. The backs of the rivets on my jeans can break me out in a rash, a belt buckle can do the same and they just don’t make belts with plastic buckles. And I probably wouldn’t wear them if they did because I wouldn’t like the look of the plastic buckle. (I just gave someone an idea to help them get rich… metal is a common allergy and people with metal allergies usually have to avoid metal in their clothing, plastic belt buckles would be a god send as long as they didn’t look cheap).
So hands firmly grasping my jeans, I rushed my husband through the store because once the jeans start to fall down, it’s hard to stop them. The store we were at sold jeans and I considered buying a new pair, but I refuse to pay $50 for a pair of jeans.
I mentioned there was a psychological aspect. I hate to clothes shop. But clothes aren’t something I can just randomly buy. My bits don’t measure out evenly. Every year I buy a two piece bathing suit and new cover ups. I buy the two piece even though I shouldn’t wear it in public with my poochy belly because one piece swim suits come in two sizes for me: fits my bottom half but the top half is struggling to stay covered or fits my top half, but under the right conditions I will be flashing everyone later because the bottom half is very saggy and ill fitting.
Anyway, because I hate to shop, I’m not a clothes horse. I don’t have a closet full of clothing. My shirts have become billowy and hang oddly because they are now the wrong size. My jeans are falling off when I walk, and my underwear are falling down into my jeans as the day wears on. This is psychological torture, just FYI. Because it isn’t comfortable to have your underwear falling off into your jeans or pants as you walk and some clothing shows when that happens and sometimes you flash more butt than you expect with ill fitting underwear.
When you have this problem, you start to think about it, a lot. Is my shirt long enough in case my underwear falls down since almost all jeans these days are hip huggers or low rider jeans? Two of the pairs of 16s I bought in May and June are high waisted, but when I bought my 18s years ago, high waisted jeans had been made obsolete because mom jeans weren’t popular. It usually comes across as an insecurity, but it’s hard to think of anything else when you are worried you are going to be flashing your butt crack to the world because your underwear fell down into your jeans. And here’s the deal, large billowy shirts aren’t the answer. They basically look like you don’t know how to buy shirts and since you didn’t get shorter, a billowy shirt isn’t necessarily long enough to cover your butt crack in the event you flash it because your underwear decided to try migrating down.
This means I have three pairs of jeans and one pair of shorts that I don’t have to worry about falling off while I walk. I have about five shirts that are the correct size, two of them new because I got tired of people asking me why I was wearing a maternity shirt. I have an upper abdomen paunch which is mostly air. It’s round like a basketball and hard as a rock. This seems to be a shape deformity that is genetic. My father has the same problem although his is significantly worse than mine. Shirts that are too big actually hang from that upper paunch and they do look like maternity clothing. I see it in the mirror all the time. Unfortunately, we haven’t perfected deflating people yet, although I did offer to be a guinea pig for any methods they could think of.
It also means that I need to buy new underwear because I only have three pairs or so that don’t fall off me. For women, wearing ill fitting clothing is psychological. We are very aware of it. Several years ago, my mother lost a large amount of weight and she had the same problem, she didn’t feel comfortable going out in public in her clothing because it didn’t fit right. I think this is worse for women than for men. But I could be wrong.
Clothing is dreadfully expensive. I hate shelling out the money for it. My husband occasionally comments because I buy LuLaRoe. But $35 for a blouse is about what I would pay anywhere. T-shirts I can usually pick up a little cheaper, but not blouses. Oh and undergarments can be more expensive than shirts. Places like Walmart and Kmart and Target don’t carry my bra size. Victoria’s Secret doesn’t either. Even Lane Bryant doesn’t carry my cup size all the time. I have had to have them special order them for me, but that gets time consuming (go to the store, get measured twice because the associate doesn’t believe you when you tell them the size, then stand there while they fiddle in their computer to pull up that size in something, then wait a week or two for it to come in, then go to the store to pick it up). Just dreadful… I swear it’s a form of psychological warfare most of the time.