Amanda's been shrinking lately. She's been excited to be able to fit into clothes she hadn't worn in a long time. A pair of khaki capris here, some green summer pants there. She wears them to work and her colleagues ask where she got the cool new clothes. She tells them, "I went shopping in my closet."
I've been doing the same thing. Although the TV show people have made it quite clear they don't want me losing a significant amount of weight until I'm cut from contention or given the official go-ahead by the producers, I've been ever-so-slowly shrinking due to the healthier eating habits outlined in earlier posts. I'm still a chubby dude, but it's enough difference to notice that some buttons are not stretching and my pants are being affected by gravity. So, I've been able to go shopping in my closet and pull out some things I haven't worn in a long time.
My clothing assortment seems to fall into a groove/rut on a seasonal basis. After I culled most of the logo T-shirts and just-plain-wrong clothes from my closet last spring/summer, I went to Brown's (the short-man's store, "Because it fits!!!") and spent $500+ on some new pants and silk shirts for the generously proportioned but vertically challenged gentleman. Last time I wore those consistently was around the time I moved to Halifax. They sat in the hamper due to lack of inclination to iron and the difficulty in hand-washing silk. When winter came, I switched to casual but distinguished sweaters. At some point we went to Old Navy and got some better-fitting pants. Around the time of the Calgary trip, I bought a new batch of khakis, polo shirts and other upstat-looking attire to continue the dress-to-impress-despite-looking-pregnant theme.
Now that my belly is a small percentage smaller, and my face ever so slightly less bulbously spherical, I've been digging deeper into the closet to pull out items which just might fit. And, lo and behold, they do. I even got a compliment from my sweetheart when I paired up my starting-to-sag-in-the-ass green cargo chinos with a closet-found tan linen sport shirt. Woo! Today I've rescued a blue button-up shirt I remember wearing in 2000 on my trip to New York City. This shopping in my closet thing is cool.
I had a chat this week with a couple of the ladies at work about their passion for shopping. It's presently impossible for me to experience the joy of shopping for the perfect buy. The notion of finding a sale on something flattering is a foreign concept for people who can hardly find something that fits. For normal (or, as some call them, "skinny")-sized people, the options are vast enough that they can shop almost anywhere and find something that fits. That leaves the fun challenge of finding the item that's "just right" or on sale. But for people on the plus (or perhaps minus) size of the scale, vertically or horizontally, it's frustrating enough just finding something that goes on, never mind finding a bargain.
Of course, some may say -- if you can't feel comfortable in nice clothes because you have a hard time finding them and an awkward time wearing them, stop being so bloody fat! Well, even outside the fat-guy perspective, I can't find joy in buying shoes. I have a high instep and a wide foot. I can't work up the passion for finding the perfect pair of shoes, because I have a dilly of a time just getting one that fits my foot!
So, one of the benefits waiting for me at the end of my weight-loss journey: more clothing selection. Outside of the closet. In the stores. I'll be able to buy nice-looking clothes and wear them without feeling like a tool.
Oh, as for the "shopping in my closet" idea? As much as I still think Amanda is super-clever for using that phrase, she's not the first. See a blog entry called "Shopping in my closet", and an MSN article called "Shopping your closet: Rediscovering old favorites."
I've been doing the same thing. Although the TV show people have made it quite clear they don't want me losing a significant amount of weight until I'm cut from contention or given the official go-ahead by the producers, I've been ever-so-slowly shrinking due to the healthier eating habits outlined in earlier posts. I'm still a chubby dude, but it's enough difference to notice that some buttons are not stretching and my pants are being affected by gravity. So, I've been able to go shopping in my closet and pull out some things I haven't worn in a long time.
My clothing assortment seems to fall into a groove/rut on a seasonal basis. After I culled most of the logo T-shirts and just-plain-wrong clothes from my closet last spring/summer, I went to Brown's (the short-man's store, "Because it fits!!!") and spent $500+ on some new pants and silk shirts for the generously proportioned but vertically challenged gentleman. Last time I wore those consistently was around the time I moved to Halifax. They sat in the hamper due to lack of inclination to iron and the difficulty in hand-washing silk. When winter came, I switched to casual but distinguished sweaters. At some point we went to Old Navy and got some better-fitting pants. Around the time of the Calgary trip, I bought a new batch of khakis, polo shirts and other upstat-looking attire to continue the dress-to-impress-despite-looking-pregnant theme.
Now that my belly is a small percentage smaller, and my face ever so slightly less bulbously spherical, I've been digging deeper into the closet to pull out items which just might fit. And, lo and behold, they do. I even got a compliment from my sweetheart when I paired up my starting-to-sag-in-the-ass green cargo chinos with a closet-found tan linen sport shirt. Woo! Today I've rescued a blue button-up shirt I remember wearing in 2000 on my trip to New York City. This shopping in my closet thing is cool.
I had a chat this week with a couple of the ladies at work about their passion for shopping. It's presently impossible for me to experience the joy of shopping for the perfect buy. The notion of finding a sale on something flattering is a foreign concept for people who can hardly find something that fits. For normal (or, as some call them, "skinny")-sized people, the options are vast enough that they can shop almost anywhere and find something that fits. That leaves the fun challenge of finding the item that's "just right" or on sale. But for people on the plus (or perhaps minus) size of the scale, vertically or horizontally, it's frustrating enough just finding something that goes on, never mind finding a bargain.
Of course, some may say -- if you can't feel comfortable in nice clothes because you have a hard time finding them and an awkward time wearing them, stop being so bloody fat! Well, even outside the fat-guy perspective, I can't find joy in buying shoes. I have a high instep and a wide foot. I can't work up the passion for finding the perfect pair of shoes, because I have a dilly of a time just getting one that fits my foot!
So, one of the benefits waiting for me at the end of my weight-loss journey: more clothing selection. Outside of the closet. In the stores. I'll be able to buy nice-looking clothes and wear them without feeling like a tool.
Oh, as for the "shopping in my closet" idea? As much as I still think Amanda is super-clever for using that phrase, she's not the first. See a blog entry called "Shopping in my closet", and an MSN article called "Shopping your closet: Rediscovering old favorites."
I have a theory I use. All clothes that for some odd reason, become too small, go to Goodwill. When and if I lose weight, I can then treat myself to new ones. A bit of an incentive.
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