I can remember a trip I took one day through the mall as a teenager, trying on every pair of jeans in every single store in "my size" and actually walking out empty handed. It turns out I apparently don't have a size, at least where pants are concerned. For some reason, whoever designs clothing believes all women have very big butts and thighs, very thin waists, and are extremely tall. Who makes these things????
I inherited my lower half from my mother (sorry Mom). I've always been painfully thin (well, until recently), but for some reason, I was born with a tire around my waistline. I can't figure it out. How can a person's arms and legs be stick thin, but their stomach looks five months pregnant? I'm short, so all pants legs are automatically too long. My legs aren't very big around, so most pants are too big in the hips and thighs. But try to pull them up over my waist? Not a chance of zipping here.
I recently increased my problem by choosing to undergo a hysterectomy, which apparently immediately adds ten pounds to your body weight. I'm actually large in places I was never large before. I'm also much larger in the abdominal area. I did not know that a larger abdomen came with a hysterectomy. It has nothing to do with the Halloween candy that Justin bought or the fact that I'm exercise impaired. I swear, I was born this way. And then got surgically enhanced last April in an extremely unpleasant way. Hysterectomies are not the celebrity way to repair what God gave you.
I had been complaining about my pants being too tight for months before allowing the removal of my reproductive organs. Silly me, I thought that if I got rid of the offending uterus, with accompanying fibroids, I might actually lose weight. I maybe should have talked to the doctor beforehand, because my pants actually got tighter after I left the hospital. I'm not just talking a little tight at the end of the day. I'm talking, it hurts to wear pants! I'm up two sizes from this time last year and I still can't find jeans that I can wear without crying. I've bought and returned more pants in the last six months than I think I've owned in my entire life. No one makes pants in "my size." Apparently, "my size" simply does not exist.
Hence, the sweat pants. If you see me out and about, please don't think I'm deliberately letting myself go. I just prefer to go through my day without feeling like I have a Victorian corset around my middle, whalebones and all. Oh, and maybe I should take the dog for a walk. And buy a housedress or two. Wait - I think my grandmother wore those.
Hey, I hear leggings are in fashion this year. I'll take a dozen, in a large, please.