HOLY SHIT!
Mar. 30th, 2005 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Let me reiterate the subject line: HOLY SHIT!
I was sitting here mulling over, in my mind, the thought of buying new pants. All my work pants have, or so I thought, weirdly stretched out around the waistbands and thus keep kind of falling down, which is very unflattering. I am not the sort who has any right to wear my pants low. No. It's just bad. But, given that I hate taking my belt off at security, I don't wear one, and so I have droopy drawers and it's just an ugly situation.
And the brown corduroys, which used to be slightly too tight, also were oddly stretched and kept falling down. (And off, that one time. Whoo, good thing nobody was looking. Put wallet in pocket in preparation for going for walk, and pants fell OFF. The beagle was quizzical. I was discomfited.)
I began to harbor a strange suspicion. Could it be, I thought-- but no.
A few moments ago I decided to get proactive and crush this stupid strange suspicion. So I got up and went to my closet, and retrieved a pair of pants that I used to wear quite often that were always a bit snug and yet I liked. I tried them on. Well, two of the three buttons were missing, so the fact that they weren't snug was rather inconclusive.
So my suspicion was neither crushed nor confirmed. Dissatisfied, I prowled the wreckage of my room. Perhaps... but no... but, well, I'm alone in the house and no-one will know. I opened the trunk where I keep the pants I don't strew around the floor. (In other words, the ones I don't wear weekly.)
Underneath a number of pairs of jeans with holes in disreputable places (I swear, that's just how they wear. Stop looking at me like that), I dug deeply to find... those baby-blue flared-leg very-soft corduroys. That one pair. That I got as a gift. (In 2000.) And they're so pretty. And they're J. Crew. And they're so shiny. And they've... never fit me. They're size 13. Nobody even makes size 13s. And of late I've had to shamefacedly admit that I buy 16s. (By "of late" I mean, "since junior year in college".)
But I was feeling brave and reckless. And so I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath and put the pants on.
And buttoned the button. (Additionally, I zippered the zipper.)
And I'm sitting, Indian-style, on my bed, in the baby-blue velvet-soft corduroys that have never fit me.
I'm sitting.
I CAN SIT DOWN IN THEM.
Comfortably.
THEY FIT ME.
I am sitting down and leaning forward, might I add.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
*goes to eat more Easter candy*
edited to add: Showed Dave when he came home (the only reason I had the guts to try this was that he wasn't in the house and thus if I fell over while attempting to squeeze into said pants, he wouldn't be there to hear the thump and ask me what I was doing and necessitate an embarrassing or untruthful answer). Dave's comment?
"Too bad they're out of fashion."
Just goes to show you, the kind of environment I live in.
I was sitting here mulling over, in my mind, the thought of buying new pants. All my work pants have, or so I thought, weirdly stretched out around the waistbands and thus keep kind of falling down, which is very unflattering. I am not the sort who has any right to wear my pants low. No. It's just bad. But, given that I hate taking my belt off at security, I don't wear one, and so I have droopy drawers and it's just an ugly situation.
And the brown corduroys, which used to be slightly too tight, also were oddly stretched and kept falling down. (And off, that one time. Whoo, good thing nobody was looking. Put wallet in pocket in preparation for going for walk, and pants fell OFF. The beagle was quizzical. I was discomfited.)
I began to harbor a strange suspicion. Could it be, I thought-- but no.
A few moments ago I decided to get proactive and crush this stupid strange suspicion. So I got up and went to my closet, and retrieved a pair of pants that I used to wear quite often that were always a bit snug and yet I liked. I tried them on. Well, two of the three buttons were missing, so the fact that they weren't snug was rather inconclusive.
So my suspicion was neither crushed nor confirmed. Dissatisfied, I prowled the wreckage of my room. Perhaps... but no... but, well, I'm alone in the house and no-one will know. I opened the trunk where I keep the pants I don't strew around the floor. (In other words, the ones I don't wear weekly.)
Underneath a number of pairs of jeans with holes in disreputable places (I swear, that's just how they wear. Stop looking at me like that), I dug deeply to find... those baby-blue flared-leg very-soft corduroys. That one pair. That I got as a gift. (In 2000.) And they're so pretty. And they're J. Crew. And they're so shiny. And they've... never fit me. They're size 13. Nobody even makes size 13s. And of late I've had to shamefacedly admit that I buy 16s. (By "of late" I mean, "since junior year in college".)
But I was feeling brave and reckless. And so I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath and put the pants on.
And buttoned the button. (Additionally, I zippered the zipper.)
And I'm sitting, Indian-style, on my bed, in the baby-blue velvet-soft corduroys that have never fit me.
I'm sitting.
I CAN SIT DOWN IN THEM.
Comfortably.
THEY FIT ME.
I am sitting down and leaning forward, might I add.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
*goes to eat more Easter candy*
edited to add: Showed Dave when he came home (the only reason I had the guts to try this was that he wasn't in the house and thus if I fell over while attempting to squeeze into said pants, he wouldn't be there to hear the thump and ask me what I was doing and necessitate an embarrassing or untruthful answer). Dave's comment?
"Too bad they're out of fashion."
Just goes to show you, the kind of environment I live in.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 04:40 am (UTC)Jer and I went on this diet where we don't eat Pizza or hamburgers. We did it for a whole quarter, and whaddya know! He lost like five pounds and I lost ten. He didn't really have the five pounds to loose, but what ever, he is fat challenged and I am gifted in that respect.
Kel
no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 04:49 am (UTC)I metabolize things well. I just am happier when I eat sufficient calories and burn sufficient calories.
>fat challenged and I am gifted in that respect
That's definitely a way of looking at it. I might steal that phrase. Dave recently wore his sole pair of pants that really fit him, and I asked him their size. (They were custom-rebuilt at the tailor's shop.)
28 1/2" in the waist, and the inseam is 37 inches.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 05:00 am (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 02:15 pm (UTC)I found that weight. I must get rid of the junk in the trunk.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 04:22 pm (UTC)Though now I'm, somewhat nonsensically, wondering if I should hold off on acquiring any significant wardrobe pieces until I can ascertain which direction this shape-shifting trend is heading... But then, I don't have much of a habit of acquiring wardrobe pieces, so I probably shouldn't worry.
I still wish I had the time and money to join that gym. (But it would require me knowing I'll be here for another year, as well. Mmf. Am becoming tired of temporary life.)
Good luck with your trunk-cleaning-out.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-31 04:22 pm (UTC)