I have a lot of photos of myself sitting in front of cake. I noticed this when I dug out my mother’s photos albums and boxes of unsorted prints looking for a good “before” photo earlier this year. “No wonder I was so fat. I was always eating cake!” I thought. Then I realized that, no, I wasn’t always eating cake. We just always took pictures of me on my birthday, at which we always ate cake.
These pictures do provide a good timeline of how I’ve aged over the years, and what my taste in pastries was at the time. So today, I give you a history of cake.
Wearing a corduroy jumper made by mother. I was currently obsessed with headbands. Looks like we got out the fancy metal plates for the occasion! I love how my hands are encircling the cake, as if to say, “Mine, all mine!”
Wearing my marching band T-shirt and about to devour a Tazmanian Devil cake.
Wearing one of those long t-shirts we used to tie in a knot on the side, or if you were feeling fancy you’d use a plastic t-shirt tie. No, it wasn’t in fashion at the time :) Thank goodness it’s dark so you can’t see quite how frizzy my hair is.
Wearing one of the four plaid shirts I lived in at the time, even though grunge was on its way out. If I pre-dated these photos I could pretend I was trendy.
Wearing a Lane Bryant top, which was quite comfy but depressingly a size 24/26.
Down one gallbladder, but still able to digest high-fat ice cream cake. Weight, 372 pounds.
Finally decreasing in size, down to 260 pounds. Cake is noticeably smaller.
200 pounds! No longer obese. Let’s celebrate with cake!
At my lowest weight, 175 pounds. Am I smiling because of my size or because of the Oreo Blizzard cake? (Definitely because of the cake.)