Filed Under: clothing

Mirror, mirror on the dressing room wall

February 11, 2008 at 7:07 am

The dressing rooms at Target are surprisingly well lit. This is a surprisingly good thing because Target dressing rooms also feature two mirrors on opposite walls angled perfectly for me to check out my back muscles. When I used to stand in the Lane Bryant dressing rooms, I was grateful that the room seemed to be lit by the glow of an iPhone. I looked at my morbidly obese reflection in the same way I would view a car accident on the side of the road, not really wanting to look but staring anyway. Now here I was years later, in Target, trying on a sports bra, flexing my whatever-the-back-muscles-are-called for at least two minutes, thinking “Damn, I look good.”

It was a good reminder, because someone snuck into my apartment and switched my dumbbells with heavier ones. I know that eight-pounder was not that hard to lift last month. I’m sure neglecting my upper body weight routine has nothing to do with it at all. I’ve been distracted with my new YMCA classes and my running schedule, but I do not want to lose my beautiful upper body muscles. I’m quite pleased with the way everything above my belly button looks (yes, even the underarm flab). I don’t want to lose the definition I’ve worked so hard to build.

There are times at home when I look in the mirror and think, “You really could stand to lose those last 10 or 20 pounds. If you wanted it more you could actually do it.” But thankfully there are also days when I go to Target claiming I will only buy a pair of socks and end up buying $80 worth of sportswear because I think I look cute in it. This may very well be the secret to exercising. Buy yourself cute activewear! Run outside so everyone can see how cute you look in it. It was rather ridiculous how long I stood there striking poses and admiring my biceps and punching towards the mirror. It was completely vain and self-centered and self-indulgent and telling this story will only make me sound like a Narcissus to be loathed by the entire Internet, but I’m glad there are days that I like what I see in the mirror. I hope every girl or boy has days like that, no matter how fat or thin they are.

Soooooo, in conjunction with Everlast, I’m offering you the opportunity to win a free tank top! I know, this has gotten rather ridiculous. It’s the 3rd giveaway in two weeks. You either think I’m a total corporate whore or that I’ve started stealing things off the backs of trucks. The latter is not true and hopefully neither is the former. When people ask me if I want to give away free chicken and water filters and tank tops, I can’t think of any good reason not to. I didn’t even write the first few paragraphs of this entry for the contest. I just started writing an entry and suddenly realized it would make a good segue.

Everlast tank tops

Everlast sent me three double ribbed tank tops in the above photo, a small mint rush (green), a medium berry blast (pink), and a large legend blue (purple). (They did not send me the models, which is good because I cannot afford to feed and clothe them.) The price tags say $20.00, but they are normally priced at $16.99 on the Everlast site (though it looks like they are on sale for $9.99 this week). To enter, leave a comment telling me about an outfit that made you feel pretty. Contest ends 11:59p.m. on Thursday, February 14th. One entry per person, no duplicate entries please. This is open to international folks as well. Please specify what size you would like. If you want more than one size, post them in order of priority. For example, if you say you only want the small and are drawn after a person who already grabbed the small, you won’t win anything and I’ll draw another name. If you’d said you want the small first and the medium second, you’d get the medium. This is the last giveaway I’m going to do for awhile, so get posting!

Seasons of weight loss

September 24, 2007 at 8:15 am

As I was shivering in my short-sleeved hoodie and tank top after the Ani DiFranco concert last week, it occurred to me, “Hey, the seasons are changing, you dumbass. Next time bring a sweatshirt!” My approach to choosing my clothes is to assume that today will be the same temperature as yesterday, which makes no sense because if that were true there would be no seasons. I must think I live on the equator.

The changing seasons mean a lot for my weight loss. I’m going to have to buy a whole new winter wardrobe, again, for the third year in a row. Yeah, this is the part where I send out engraved invitations to my pity party and no one RSVP’s. “Ooooh, that’s so horrible, PastaQueen. You’re so small you have to buy new sweaters. We feel so, so, terrible for you.” I know, it’s a good problem to have, but it’s still a problem. I still mourn the loss of my fuzzy brown extra large sweater. It was so soft and flattering of my coloring! At least I’m small enough that I can find lots of stuff at the thrift store now. Luckily, I don’t think I’ll have to buy a new winter coat. Yay! The old one was a bit tight last year but now it’s a bit loose, so there’s about $100 saved. I could put it towards buying an alpaca. I’d rent a carport for him to live in and I’d start making my own yarn and knit my own sweaters. Or I could just hit the clearance racks.

As it gets colder it will also mean I’ll have to abandon my beloved trail and head inside to run on the treadmill. I anticipate that this will suck hardcore. I wasn’t serious about running last year, but yesterday I ran 5 miles in 55 minutes. This was tolerable because I had changing scenery, but I don’t know how I’m going to cope with looking at a wall for almost an hour. Last year I watched TV shows and got through both seasons of The Venture Brothers and almost all five seasons of Justice League and Justice League: Unlimited. Right now I’m contemplating watching every episode of Daria. The other danger with the treadmill is that I can hop off at any time, whereas on the trail once I’ve run two and a half miles in one direction I pretty much have to run back or take up hitchhiking. I also have a new downstairs neighbor, so I have no idea how the sound of me jogging on his ceiling is going to go over.

The one good thing about fall is that it heralds the return of Jell-O’s pumpkin flavored instant pudding. Mmmm! It’s not sugar-free or fat-free, but oh well, Jell-O, I love you anyway. I’ll indulge in it reasonably with some fat-free whipped cream. It’s so much more exciting when you can only get a food for a limited time. It makes it more special, like Easter Peeps.

3-D weight loss progress photo – fancy dress edition

September 8, 2007 at 8:50 pm

A new fancy dress edition of my 3-D progress photos is now posted on the progress page and embedded below. My mother worked her magic on the broken straps of my dress with a needle as her wand. Bibbity-bobbity-boo! One would never know I broke a beaded strap at my brother’s wedding and had them replaced. Thanks, Mom!

P.S. – I’m turning off comments on this one because I feel like I’m whoring for compliments with all of these photos lately. I know I look good and thank you for thinking so too!

Wedding photos and a possible Project Runway challenge

August 22, 2007 at 8:22 am

As promised, here are photos of me all gussied up for my brother’s wedding two weekends ago. I was waiting for the professional pictures to come back, but they haven’t turned up yet so I’ll just show you my shaky, handheld photography in questionable lighting. The one on the left was taken outside in front of a stretch SUV limousine and the one on the right was taken in my hotel room, which is why I look kind of blue like Smurf in one and kind of yellow like I have Hepatitis in the other. I wanted to show you the back of the dress because I love the way the fabric wraps around and drapes down. I was able to grab those strands at the reception and wave them around like butterfly wings.

My dress was green but did this cool shimmering thing in the light that gave it a red sheen, which doesn’t show up in the photos at all, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. You can’t tell from these pictures, but in the hotel photo my straps are beaded and in the limo photo they are not. Why is this?

BECAUSE I HAD A FASHION EMERGENCY!!

I had successfully put on my dress and walked out to the car in my open-toed shoes that delightfully showed off my pink toenail polish. However, when I opened the passenger’s side door and leaned over to put my purse on the floor I heard a SNAP! Then my right strap went slack. Then I said some naughty words. In my fatter days I sometimes had concerns about splitting tight pairs of pants, but I’d thought my days of possible wardrobe malfunctions were over. Alas no, the wire holding the beaded strap to the front of the dress broke. It was just like that time Kelly Monoco’s top almost came off during Dancing with the Stars, only I didn’t have a live studio audience and I wasn’t doing the samba.

Miraculously the beads stayed on the wire and I was able to hold the strap as we drove to the church. Thankfully, we had expert help on site. My mother is a professional seamstress who carries a sewing kit in her purse. She carefully analyzed the situation in the lobby of the chapel. First we tried sewing the strap back onto the dress, but there wasn’t enough wire left to do so. We considered just tucking the straps under my dress at my armpits and going strapless, but I was concerned I might end up flashing the congregation during my reading from Solomon. Next we were thinking of attaching the strap with Scotch tape and safety pins and camouflaging the whole mess with my corsage, but as we looked at my corsage we realized the florist had provided us with a solution. There was a small white ribbon tied neatly around the stems.

Yes, my mother sewed new straps onto my dress in the lobby of the church half an hour before my brother’s wedding using only ribbon from a corsage and a sewing kit. She didn’t even charge me an alteration fee. If we had a video camera, I’m sure we could use footage of this incident to get her an audition on Project Runway.

After that, I made sure to sit up very straight and not bend over. I made it through the ceremony without flashing anyone, though I broke the left strap while bouncing around to “Shout” at the reception. Luckily, my left beaded strap was still in tact, so I just slipped on the spare from underneath my armpit and all was well for the rest of the night. And if my spare straps had broken, I’m sure we could have fashioned a whole new dress out of the tablecloths and napkins.

The most remarkable thing other than my impromptu alterations is that no one said a word about my underarm flab. In fact, I got lots of compliments about how good I looked. So girls, don’t fear the sleeveless dress! I’ve got baggier underarms than 99% of the population and it was no big deal. You don’t have to live in fear of the strapless dress, just the fear that your dress will become strapless.

Right fit, wrong time

July 23, 2007 at 9:20 am

Hey, PastaQueen. Can you tell me what irony is?

Why yes, self. It’s when you have too much iron. It’s like reverse anemia.

Um, I don’t think that’s what it means.

Oh, really. Are you a doctor?

No, but I did take a creative writing class once. That’s not what “irony” means.

If you already know what it means, then why are you asking me?

Well, I thought it would be a cute way to set up a blog entry. I was just playing dumb.

Oh, okay then. Irony is “incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result.” For example, say someone has worked two and half years so they would no longer have to shop at Lane Bryant. Then say that the very month that person can finally squeeze into the largest size not sold at Lane Bryant (size 12) and she runs around shopping all weekend looking for jeans is also the very same month Lane Bryant introduces a line of jeans that evidently fit everyone’s body shape. But only if they’re plus-sized. That would be irony.

Uno! The big LB introduced Right Fit jeans this month which come in three cuts – straight, curvy and extra curvy. They have a new sizing system which I suspect was brainstormed over a late night Uno card game. Once you get measured you’ll get a new size like Blue 4 or a Red 7 or Yellow 5. Or you can just grab a card out of the Uno deck and hope the matching pants fit. Since women’s sizing makes no sense anyway, I have no problem with LB making up their own system. The early reviews from The Pretty Pear are very positive. Now if only LB would make them in my size…

I did venture out of my apartment in search of the perfect jeans this weekend, and like my search for the perfect man it is still ongoing. I can now say that I have set foot in all of the following stores: The Gap, Banana Republic, Anne Taylor, Anne Taylor Loft, Marshalls, TJ Maxx and Macy’s. I’d already been to Macy’s and TJ Maxx before, but I was able to try on a lot more pants this time. And no one kicked me out of the store! They didn’t even make me spit out my gum. I was surprised to discover there actually were some size 14’s and 16’s at places like The Gap and Banana Republic, but only a couple. It’s nice that they were there, but if I were still a bit bigger it wouldn’t seem worth all the trouble to come out to the mall to try on the four items they had in my size. Also, I think the sales guy at The Gap might have been flirting with me. Either that or he really wanted to sell me a pair of low rise jeans. I can never tell with salespeople. Flirting might just be the way they make commission.

My shopping expedition also made me very class conscious. The mall that has The Gap and Banana Republic and Anne Taylor has as its anchor stores Fifth Avenue Saks and Parisian. I passed a valet parking stand on the way into the mall. Lots of people were wearing their sunglasses as they walked to the door, probably because the floors are so shiny they may temporarily blind you like a vision of the Madonna. While there were certainly a fair share of people in capris and tanks and sweats, there were also people who could have gone to a country club party after purchasing their uniquely shaped glassware at Crate and Barrel. Then I’d head off to places like Marshalls and TJ Maxx which sell off-price, discounted merchandise. I could not see my reflection in the floor and the dressing rooms felt more like a cattle call. The look in some of my fellow shoppers eyes was predatory, like if I were to get in the way between them and the 80% off Elliott Lucca handbag they’d slit my throat with their acrylic nails and leave me to stain the luggage section in blood. Which would then be reduced and marked “as is.” At both places I felt a little out of place.

After I was done shopping for clothes, I went to Target to get kitty litter and realized that the red store is the place I feel most class unconscious. The prices are affordable, but the décor is a little cleaner and prettier than places like Wal-Mart. Whenever I shop at Wal-Mart I feel like I’ve entered communist Russia. The check-out lines are sometimes as long as food ration queues. I feel like part of the down-trodden underclass, a 21st century peasant. I don’t mean to disrespect the existence of Wal-Mart or places like it, at least not on the basis of price and atmosphere. Their business practices and the way they treat employees are up for grabs. I know many people depend on their low prices simply to survive in life. I just know that I’m willing to pay a little extra for the nicer atmosphere at Target. Call me a snob, maybe I am.

Either way, it’s nice to have so many choices now and I look forward to completing further reconnaissance at similar stores. I’ll report back my findings hidden in microdots in the third “i” of my blog entries. Be on alert!