Speaking of stuffing too much into too little, my new perimenopausal shopping habit is to buy clothes in the same size 9 I always identifed with, even though my larger than ever before perimenopausal bustline does not allow the top three buttons on any size 9 blouse to close. Go figure. So, what do I do? I buy anyway, thinking I can knock off ten pounds in no time. Exercise pro or not, shedding those clinging-on-for- dear- life ten pounds just ain't as easy as it once was. So now I have a lot of shirts that I wear open as vests.
Me, my sister Bern, and my fashionista step mom Diana recently went on a jaunt to Marshalls (my favorite store- it's hit or miss-but Bloomies just costs too much). We were quite a crew- dressing Bern, dressing me, and watching Di ponder whether she really needed a new blouse. I think she walked out emptyhanded.
Here I am trying to stuff the perimenopausal sausage into the size 9's and really insisting that I looked good. (I use the dressing room mirror that's far away from the changing stall- the skinny mirror.) My beautiful, retired police officer step mom does honesty as well as she does fashion. She boycotted all of my sausage-looking outfits. I huffed and puffed like a 15 year old, but went with her choices in the end anyway. A stranger who could not help overhearing us was shopping by herself and trying on dresses. She approached us and told Di, that she knew Diana would be honest with her, and asked her to decide which dress she should buy to wear to her son's communion. She went with Di's choice. So did I. It hung in the closet for a couple of weeks, but when I finally wore my new, well fitting, slightly loose, attractive, fashionable, age appropriate (NOT DOWDY- I am still a young hipster in my heart!) shirt for the first time, I felt fabulous!
I'm still working on the ten pounds, but just not torturing myself about it in the meantime. No sausages for me.