Get your damn minds out of the gutter….
Some poeple can remember what they weighed, or what size clothing they wore WAY back when they were in High School, or even Middle School. My best friend and I talk about this a lot. She can remember what she weighed at all sorts of times in her life. When we talk about it, it always makes me really think, because I really can’t remember things like that. Personally, I think I blocked those numbers out of my head.
The only things I really remember are certain shopping trips to the good old Natick Mall. Headed to popular clothing stores, and hoping and praying they would have my size on the rack, so I could shop with my friends.
At one point in time, they did. That was back when I wore a size 9. I don’t know why, but I remember this number; Like, it’s engraved in my brain. Size Nine. This was back in my freshman and sophomore years of High School. I even remember this cute little blue skirt that I had, that I was so happy to be able to wear. It was light blue, and short, and had a cute little slit on the right thigh, and had a zipper back. This was also the same skirt that my teacher told my parents I couldn’t wear, because it was distracting, so I would hide it in my backpack to change into, when I got to school. NO ONE can stop a wanna be fashionista. Not even a Spanish teacher.
Sorry, I am teetering off the mountain called ‘THE SUBJECT OF THIS BLOG’. My apologies. Anyways, size 9. As health issues arose, and my body started showing it’s challenges, my size 9 became a thing of the not so distant past. Numbers got bigger, and I didn’t remember any of the sizes of my clothing. Like, if you asked me what size I was in senior year of High School, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. However, I would be able to say that it SUCKED finding clothing. Nothing fit. Nothing cute, anyways. Shopping trips with friends were complete inner torture.
Part of being Plus Sized means finding the right cut, and fit for clothing, and stores that sell them. It took me most of my plus sized adult life to find Torrid. Torrid is a store that services curvy girls sizes 10-?? (I forget). All I know is, I spent all of my money there. I had more clothing than I can explain. I created a fashion style with their clothing. In few words: I was addicted.
As I started to lose weight, I had to sell all of my clothing. All of my pretty, well cared for, loved, beautiful, expensive clothing. I also had to create a whole new wardrobe and learn to dress a whole new body. Still trying.
Today, I had to go and buy nice black pants, for an event, because since I had to sell all of my clothing… I have nothing when I need it.
I’m in Express, and I try on some cute black skinny pants, and like usual, my awkward body makes clothing shopping challenging, and the fabric is swimming around my knees and ankles. The cute little sales lad says, ‘What size are those?’
‘8’, I reply. (STOP. Right here… can you believe that?? I can’t)
‘Do you have some room in the waist?’ he says.
I proceed to stick my fingers into the waistband and pull the pants away from my body, just like my Nana used to do when we would do back to school shopping at Marshall’s. Sure as shit, there’s space between me and the fabric.
‘Uhh… a little?’ I answer.
‘You should try a size 6’, he says (And I actually waited for him to snicker, but he didn’t. He was serious.)
‘Listen…. if I am a size 6, then we are going gambling. Cows are jumping over the moon, and pigs are actually flying…’ I reply, in true Ally style.
He looks at me like I have 10 heads, laughs a little to be polite, and walks out of the dressing room to retrieve the pants that surely won’t fit me.
When he returns, I take them into the dressing room (kind of dreading taking off my boots and jeans AGAIN), and I slide them on. So far so good… but come on… they won’t button, will they? Yes. Yes they did.
Size 6. A new number to engrave in my brain. The shock hasn’t really worn off…. and even when I modeled them when I got home, it was a shock all over again. Size 6.
Truly, the size doesn’t matter. Seriously. It’s how I feel about the clothing. I never looked at the sizes in my plus size clothing and got sad thinking about what I wore… I was so happy in my clothes. It’s just moments like today, when I will look back and remember how I felt. Just like the blue size 9 skirt from freshman year, these pants will remind me of this feeling, forever.
I still think about that skirt….