Little Coral Dress
Most women have the "little black dress", that one special, sexy number that they pull out and put on when they want to look especially devastating. Not me.
Oh, I have a "little" black dress. I also have a number of BIG black dresses, a whole army of black tents designed to do one thing: make my fatness a little less noticeable and with any luck, at least make me appear not quite so offensive to the skinny bee-yatchs that make up most of LA's society.
It also helped to hide me...from me.
Needless to say, I am over the black dress thing. In fact, I am over the whole color black from start to finish expect when used in a cashmere sweater. That's still ok because to me, that's very elegant. Makes me look and feel like a rich bitch. But as for dresses...
This dress is actually 2 years old. I got it in 2007. No, it didn't even begin to fit. I told myself that I would "diet" into it and added it to the rest of my collection of clothing that I had promised myself I would one day be able to wear if only....
But "if onlys" never happen. When you live in a world of "if only", you live in a dream world of broken promises to self and broken furniture.
All those little incidents you would think would force you to take stock of the blubber that is ever spreading over your elastic waist band and into the seat of the passenger next to you on the plane, the bloated fat that prevents you from being able to use most of the desk/chair combos in the class room, gets easier and easier to brush off and ignore. Besides, it's not your fault.
This dress that I KNOW should fit me, that is now stuck around my boobs and that I cannot get off no matter how much I tug and jump around, this is not my fault! The manufacturer is obviously employing blind war orphans to make their clothes! It's their fault!
This lawn chair that collapsed the minute I sat on it was obviously made of defective material that wouldn't stand up to someone the size of a pea let alone me!
And these IDIOTS who ask me when my baby is due are thoughtless clods who enjoy embarrassing strangers...
"If only" land becomes as comfy and as familiar as that one pair of pants you can still wear only because the elastic in them broke and your big tummy is holding them up.
My stay in "If only" land lasted for 6 years. My passport to that strange place finally got revoked on Christmas night of last year. We had gotten home from the annual gorge fest that makes up the Christmas Dinner put on by my husband's family. No random can of this and cream of that here; we are talking gourmet all the way. Julia Child would be right at home in Brother in law's kitchen.
So there we were, DH and I, at the close of Christmas Day, basking in the glow of the season and the lights from the tree when I asked if he wanted something to eat. He did not but I did and proceeded to get something very gooey and lovely from the freezer.
DH remarked that I certainly did manage to eat a lot that day. I was stung by that remark and retorted that of COURSE I ate alot that day, it was Christmas for Christ sakes, what the hell else was I supposed to do on Christmas Day at his brother's Julia Child fest but eat, drink and be merry???
"What are you, ashamed of me or something?" I demanded.
There was a horrible pause and then, almost a whisper,
My first reaction of course was to blame him for HIS lousy and intolerant attitude. A fine thing to say to one's wife, on Christmas Day no less! Tears and much slamming of doors followed. A battle brewed up.
"What do you want me to do, STARVE myself?" I screamed.
"I don't have to worry about that, you NEVER follow thru with ANY diet!" was the reply.
As far as I was concerned at that point, we were THROUGH. That's it! We're done! Happy Frickin' New Year, see you in court, A-hole!
What kind of man was it that would say such hurtful things to his wife on Christmas Day???
The kind of man who loved me and wanted me to be around for other Christmas Days to come, that's what kind.
I took one last wild ride through "if only" land and packed on 5 more pounds on top of what was already there. But come the first of January 2009, that ride was over. From there on out, I walked.
As of this morning, I have put a distance of 40 pounds between me and that person in black who sat blubbering on the couch Christmas night.
I have 40 more to go. And this part of the march will be conducted in color.
I can now actually wear the little coral dress in the picture. This is a milestone ladies' size 18.
To some of you, this may still sound huge. But after flirting with a WOMANs' size 24 last summer, this ladies' 18 is a perfect 10.