fattie fatpants
Sep. 5th, 2006 01:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keryxThis weekend ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
missmeridian made me buy pants. Or rather, I had the idea that maybe a pair of jeans that weren't slowly falling off my ass would be a good plan, and then I tried on pants that fit and were less than ideal but cheap, which she subsequently talked me into buying.
Which is all really background for something that I can't figure out. When I was trying on said jeans, I was whining loudly from the dressing room about being able to see my feet (cause hey, I like the whole "my legs have sunk into the earth" look). Someone asked MM what my gripey little problem was about, and she said "eh, she's not used to wearing pants that fit". The woman comes up to me and says "oh, honey, you're never gonna be tiny... you gotta love yourself". I assume she interpreted MM's comment to mean I'd been buying my clothes too small? I don't know.
So. I can't put my finger on why I felt so patronized and embarassed by this rather than just amused. She's right - I am never going to be tiny, and it's cute that she mistook me for a newbie fat-ass and not the Incredible Very Slowly Shrinking Woman, not to mention very sweet of her to try to be encouraging. Nor did I plan on even being smaller in the first place. It's just what happened. I think I was offended that the woman didn't see my invisible Self-Righteous Fat-Ass forehead tattoo and therefore assumed I needed to be told to love myself despite my size. You tell me. What was my problem?
This morning I was putting away dresses, and three of my fabulous swing-style party dresses are rapidly approaching the "hanging off my body" stage. This saddens me. I like my clothes. I totally get why people try to lose weight when they outgrow clothes - shopping is fun, but expensive and not really all that fun when you already have a huge and perfectly serviceable wardrobe. So, locals? I totally have a proposal for you. In light of this being September now and therefore The Month of My Birth, I think someone should take me out to a party-dress-appropriate place at least once a week for the rest of the month. In case the dresses need a last hurrah.
Er, that, and I need a tailor [PS - very best galpals, please avoid jokes about "needing" self-absorbed wank tailors if you know what's good for you].
missmeridian made me buy pants. Or rather, I had the idea that maybe a pair of jeans that weren't slowly falling off my ass would be a good plan, and then I tried on pants that fit and were less than ideal but cheap, which she subsequently talked me into buying. Which is all really background for something that I can't figure out. When I was trying on said jeans, I was whining loudly from the dressing room about being able to see my feet (cause hey, I like the whole "my legs have sunk into the earth" look). Someone asked MM what my gripey little problem was about, and she said "eh, she's not used to wearing pants that fit". The woman comes up to me and says "oh, honey, you're never gonna be tiny... you gotta love yourself". I assume she interpreted MM's comment to mean I'd been buying my clothes too small? I don't know.
So. I can't put my finger on why I felt so patronized and embarassed by this rather than just amused. She's right - I am never going to be tiny, and it's cute that she mistook me for a newbie fat-ass and not the Incredible Very Slowly Shrinking Woman, not to mention very sweet of her to try to be encouraging. Nor did I plan on even being smaller in the first place. It's just what happened. I think I was offended that the woman didn't see my invisible Self-Righteous Fat-Ass forehead tattoo and therefore assumed I needed to be told to love myself despite my size. You tell me. What was my problem?
This morning I was putting away dresses, and three of my fabulous swing-style party dresses are rapidly approaching the "hanging off my body" stage. This saddens me. I like my clothes. I totally get why people try to lose weight when they outgrow clothes - shopping is fun, but expensive and not really all that fun when you already have a huge and perfectly serviceable wardrobe. So, locals? I totally have a proposal for you. In light of this being September now and therefore The Month of My Birth, I think someone should take me out to a party-dress-appropriate place at least once a week for the rest of the month. In case the dresses need a last hurrah.
Er, that, and I need a tailor [PS - very best galpals, please avoid jokes about "needing" self-absorbed wank tailors if you know what's good for you].