Pants: the ultimate lie detectors


*written December 1*

Okay, so I am not a clothes person.  My idea of clothes are something you must wear because otherwise you’d be nekkid, and people just don’t need to see that.

If I were never going out or going to be seen, I would wear: sports shorts, a supportive bra, and a tank top.  If it’s cold, I’d up the ante and have on a hoodie and slipper socks*.  Maybe jeans.

If I’m going to be out but not to be seen (stealth shopping), I’d wear jeans and a favorite t-shirt.

But when I know I’m going to “be seen,” I actually have to think about clothes.  And that… that is not my enjoyment.

As a defense, I have developed some mad wardrobing skills.  I have brown.  Yup, brown.  And some black.  And a couple of jewel-tones for variety, but there is an awful lot of brown.  Brown is comfortable.  I like to think it goes with my coloring. 

So Monday, I whipped out my brown slacks for work (it was 36 degrees, so I tend to veer away from skirts in that weather), and made my happy way to work.  And then I realized I was stepping on something.  I looked, but there was nothing there.  Nothing stuck to my shoe, nothing on the ground, nothing.  That’s when it hit me: I was treading on my pants cuffs.  Seriously?  I had gotten to the point where my clothes were literally hanging off of me?  Okay, time to go down a size.

Tuesday, I really didn’t think about the sizes when I was getting dressed.  I was concentrating on the warmth factor.  I whipped out my black corduroy slacks (which I recognize to be an absurd sort of item to have in one’s repertoire of clothes), and headed out to work.  And I’m thinking that these are the same size, because I haven’t worn them in a year.  I mean, who would wear black corduroy in a Texas summer?  All day long, I’m thinking that these pants are strangely baggy.  When I get home, I go to take these pants off, and I realize that they ARE the next size smaller.  So, basically, I’m out of clothes that fit.  I have zero pants to wear that are not elephant skin on me. 


And I realize that these pants are telling me the truth – I really have lost weight and inches.  I really have gone down about 3 sizes.  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  The meal plan is WORKING!


*I have since discovered that this is the official uniform of really scary neighbors.  Maybe I should cease and desist with this outfit.


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