What the ... ?

Winter weight.

I just heard the cringing and moaning of all the women who read me. Sorry, but I gotta unload about this.

I haven't been under my Mendoza line in ages, maybe two or three months. I'm so tired of seeing that middle number on the scale every time I get on. It haunts me, it taunts me; I hate it. Every time I get close to the line, with just one more pound or even a half-pound to go, something will interfere with my progress: a birthday, a wedding, a house warming party, Halloween, and I'll have to start over again. One day recently I saw a number on my scale I hadn't seen since I was pregnant. Seven months pregnant. So utterly depressing.

I'm trying to be more aggressive about getting in shape, getting the weight off. I enrolled again for the deep water aerobics classes and try to do the weight class at the gym at work. I'm trying to be more proactive about weight-loss than just doing the 40-minute walk in the mornings, "eating better," complaining, and crossing my fingers hoping I'll lose the weight.

This morning I was pleased to see I'm back within striking distance of my "never-ever-want-to-go-over-that-weight" line. I could be under by the weekend!

Put all that aside for a moment.

Nordstroms is having their half-yearly sale and a couple weeks ago I found myself in the lingerie department after perusing the other departments' sale racks. I was tempted by a pair of $100 dress pants that were long enough for my 34" legs on sale but passed on them because I really don't want to buy clothes until I get well under the Mendoza line. Anyway, lingerie department. There was a huge rack of bras unmentionables, designer ones, pretty $50 ones, marked down to something I could consider. I tried on several and they all seemed to fit except they were a bit tight in the band. Once again I think, all I have to do is lose a couple pounds, do a couple more lat-pulls, get rid of some back fat and these will be golden. So I bought three. They still sit in the shopping bag in my closet.

Another day, another store, and as one thing lead to another as things tend to do, I got a bra fitting. Because of the weight gain I was mentally prepared for the fitting specialist to tell me I need to go up a band size to a 36. But she didn't tell me that, she told me I needed to go up a cup size. Or two. What?! She had me try on a 34D and it fit. I was stunned and stood staring at the tag. I had to see it with my own eyes. I was wearing a 34D. Me? A D? No way. I don't look any bigger than what I've looked like forever. I'm still stunned.

So, after all these twenty-something years of being a B-cup girl, I can forgo augmentation surgery, and go from a B-cup to a D-cup by getting a $79 dollar bra!

 

 

 

I gotta get under the Mendoza line soon, I can't afford a new wardrobe of $79 bras and the new clothes I'd have to get with them.