Saturday Thoughts

And sneezing! La! I collided with something yesterday that has my nose in an uproar! I've been sneezing almost constantly since about 4 o'clock and it is not pretty. I wonder what it was that I am so allergic to. Yes. I've taken zyrtek and no it doesn't seem to be helping. Glad I have a new box of tissues.

But anyway

That's not what I'm thinking about - I'm pondering the issue of magic pills to make you skinny.  And body image. And instant gratification. And what feels like Rat Park and not Rat Prison. (see Martha Beck's book "4-Day Win" or check out this link: 

I'm still wondering about talking to my sister and her experience with the weight loss drug Contrave. I'm also pondering our longing for instant perfection at the swallow of a pill - though I'd prefer the touch of a magic wand. I've never really had much confidence in the old DuPont slogan Better Living Through Chemistry. Got way more faith in magic. And why the AICH am I still getting images of Kr is tee  Brink lee at sixtee won in my sidebars and puh-leeze! No More with the sixty one year olds looking like twenty year olds.

I know. It's spelled differently but ever since I typed in Cee Bee's name in some blog I posted I've been flooded with More Robot Driven ads. As Gawd is Mah Witnuss,  I swear I will never type the Cee Bee word again.

And truly - I don't mind it that Someone looks 20 at 60.Well - maybe 40 - 'cause I mean, look at her throat. That ain't no 24 year old neck. And besides, I don't think that someone else's situation in life is a reflection on me. I don't think her beauty takes away from my beauty any more than I think that your money takes away from my bank account. They're not even remotely connected.

What I'm really thinking about is .... why do we feel so much pressure from the opinions of Other People. Today, Sparkpeople had this blog from staff writer Allicia Capetillo:
Will Hollywood Ever  Learn to Stop Worrying and Love Real Bodies? 

And my first reaction to that question was ... well, who cares if it does or doesn't?  What gives Hollywood so much power? Or rather, who does? Well - we do. Or rather, A Person does. You do. I do. Or don't. Our choice. We don't have to give anyone that power.

And yet.

And yet I like to check in on what stars and models and fashion magazines are advising. I seriously love me some pretty clothes. I love my image of me when I'm feeling hot hot hot. I even love shopping! Even when I weighed XXX lbs I loved shopping for clothes. The puzzle ... the MATH ... the Geometry of finding clothes that flattered ME ME ME ME ME was always interesting - always fun. Mind now - it's way way way more fun finding clothes that fit the fitter slimmer me - but pleasure in pretty clothes has always been mine.

And when I was at my heaviest, did I want a pill to make me instantly slim? I am sure I did - or ... as I said before .... I longed for a magic wand to tap me on the head and sprinkle sparkles on me to make me instantly slim. Yes. I did want that. instant gratification - instant fix.

And if I dig far enough into the store lot of my memory I can still feel the ache of yearning, from my teenage self, for skinny legs, like Patti Hayes. (or Twiggy .. just in case you need a mental image). I went years without wearing jeans or pants because I thought I had fat thighs, even though my legs are the slimmest part of my figure - were even then!

So, for sure, I understand THAT we give such power to the media - to Hollywood and Glamour Magazine and the fashion spreads in People. And those irritating Cee Bee photos (do you suspect that there's one in the right hand sidebar of my page right now?  One that won't scroll away as I type this post? You would be right)

What I don't understand is WHY we give such power away. Because, one thing I know for sure is that, while when we take power for ourselves we are not diminishing another, when we give power away we are diminishing ourselves.

LOL - which would be fine if what we were diminishing were the adipose fat cells on our hips and waists and backs and thighs. alas. Those we can't just give away.

We have to diminish them away. And the only way to diminish them without diminishing health, energy, vigor, and self esteem is   S L O W L Y  - and by eating healthy foods and moving our now diminishing bodies.

Having lost substantial weight twice now by making daily healthy changes and slowly dropping the lbs, I know that I'd rather lose weight that way. Is it because the process of slowly getting better prolongs the compliments, the praise, the excitement of looking in the mirror and seeing something I like?

I'm so glad I didn't miss out on the process. What a loss that would have been. The re-gains came and there may be another one in my future - I don't know. Usually they came as the result of some outside blow, not because I got lazy or disenchanted with my new fit healthy self. and none of them ever took me back up to the scary XXX number. Always, before I got that kind of heavy again, I'd remember the process, the pleasure, the skills I'd used before, and I'd start that pleasure process again.

Each time I   S L O W L Y   work my way back down to the happy weight I learn more skills for finding pleasure by making "staying there" a process too - a pleasure process - a process pleasure. Even when I wish for the magic wand to tap myself on the head - or to tap a beloved sister or a friend or even some stranger I see  ... the magic I want to happen is that they - and I - begin to feel the process pleasure - that they - and I -  begin to want the healthy over the icky, the right portion over the humongous one, the thrill of taking back our power - from Hollywood - from the media - from the memories of our own hurt selves.

So. so those are my thoughts on a chilly Saturday morning in early December. Thanks for stopping by - thanks for reading - please feel free to leave a comment.

My Gold Brocade Slacks

On the long journey to a healthy weight, during one of the more successful periods when the scale was going down instead of up, I went shopping at a boutique.  I love to stop in little boutique-ey stores and poke among the pretties but I never buy clothes in them. I never even look at their clothing. Small little shops that have one off clothing never have big sizes - and big in those shops means a 12. The humiliation of flipping through a rack of size zeros and ones is a powerful teacher and I soon learned to stop looking.

Still and all, that early summer day there was, on the rack of winter sale items, a pair of gold brocade slacks - slim cut in the hip and marked a size 12. Also, they were marked down from some triple digit price to something like $24. The fabric was rich looking, tightly woven in a textured arabesque, not shiny or vulgar, definitely a luxury cloth. The pants were lined, too and they were narrow at the point where one's leg joins one's torso and the top had a curved bias piece tapering into the waist with no waistband at all.

They also matched, perfectly, the Christmas fantasy image in my head of me in a pair of gorgeous tan/gold slacks and a big cream colored pullover sweater ... lounging on a big couch in an elegant living room, with a fire, candlelight, wine, some quiet music and oh - hmmm - George Clooney looking at me with gleaming admiration .

So - so.

So I actually stepped into that foreign spot - a boutique dressing room - and tried them on. Well. Hmm. I couldn't zip them up. I could pull them on, though and I could still see that they were cut to work with my type of body - zero behind, bony hip join, fluffy upper hip, pouchy tummy, not enough inches between hip bone and rib cage.  And though I don't believe in buying clothes that don't fit, not only because I have limited closet space, but also because it's a kind of rejection of self to spend clothing $ on some other body, I plunked down that $24 - because I also knew that I wasn't going to see these fantasy fulfilling slacks again and I was bound and determined to turn that fantasy into a reality. (well, maybe not the George Clooney part ... but you never know)

So I bought them.  I actually forget what year it was. They lived in the attic over the summer but came down in cool weather.  I know I couldn't zip them that first Christmas, but I remember the day I announced at the WW meeting that I could at finally zip them up. Maybe I wouldn't wear them out anywhere, but they zipped at last - and that was spring of 2012. Last winter I wore them several times - because they're so perfect that I can dress them up or down - wear them to work or on a date. I even found the big cream colored pullover sweater to wear with them last Christmas (and finding that was a hilarious tale of shopping with BD)

Last night we went to a Christmas Concert in town and I pulled out my Gold Brocade Slacks for the first time and put them on. They felt delicious with their slick lining hugging my thighs while the gold brocade hung freely in a straight line. The zipper made that exciting ziiiiiiip sound as it closed without a struggle. They feel so good and they don't bag at the seat or bulge out at the upper thigh. They make me feel like a Christmas ornament. They are that perfect garment that makes you feel utterly right - and then - lets you forget, completely, about how you look, so you can concentrate on the important things - things like
the beautiful music in glory to God. The delight in being with friends in a hushed and spiritual setting. The camaraderie afterwards when we gather to chat and wish each other good tidings. But they are also a reminder of how you want to still be wearing these wonderful Gold Brocade Slacks on Christmas day - so you can step away from the treat laden tables and pass on the white fruit fudge, the real ginger snaps and the pecan divinity.

Yep. There's nothing like a pair of Gold Brocade Slacks to help you stay on track during the holidays. I hope you all have your own version of them hanging in your closet - or better yet - laid out on the bed to put on tonight.