The Time I Had to Shop at the Fat Lady Store

Because my menial job is menial and the pay is horrible, I shop at the Rack. I'd probably do it even if I had a ton of money because who doesn't love a deal? I love to shop, but I usually end up buying tops because, I don't know. Maybe they are more likely to be stretchy and thus fit me better. Maybe the current trend of loose drapey styles means they fit me. So I rarely buy pants, only when I really NEED to. Other Fat Ladies can probably empathize with this - I NEED to do it when the inner thighs of the pants start wearing out. I remember seeing a What Not to Wear episode where Stacy saw this on the inner thighs of someone's pants and was like, "What is happening here? What kind of friction causes THIS?!" It was clear she'd never encountered it, and honestly, her reaction was kind of offensive! For the rest of us whose thighs rub together like a poorly-oiled machine, wearing through pants is a fact of life. BUT! I have had the same pair of Jag jeans since July of this summer, literally the only pair of jeans I've been wearing, and they are only now just starting to show the wear. I will definitely buy more Jag when I need to, that's the longest a pair of jeans (that I wore that frequently) have lasted.

So anyway, I'd bought some work pants at the Rack, some Ralph Lauren linen-y type tan pants. They were summer weight. I wasn't super crazy about them and I don't know if they were getting tighter, or had been that tight when I bought them, but eventually the pressure of my gut pulled the button free, AND the two hook closures. I started wearing them with a belt because I was too lazy to replace everything. But when the inner thighs started to go, I thought 'Eh let's just get new pants.'

But I had to face a new reality. The Ralph Lauren pants were a size 16, and as noted, they were having trouble with my mass. I think I had tried on some pants at Nordstrom one time before I decided to get new work pants, and none of the 16s were fitting me. I had to admit to myself that if I wanted to find a pair of comfortable pants, I was going to have to go to the Fat Lady Store, AKA Lane Bryant.

Now, let me interject something at this point. When I call it the 'Fat Lady Store,' it's more a reference to how - as I perceive it - society perceives Lane Bryant. A store for fat ladies who have given up and are so large they need to go to special stores that make clothes that fit their bulk. Intellectually, I feel that hey, beauty is subjective. If you think overweight people are hot, cool. If you're overweight and think you're hot, even cooler. I don't even think overweight/obese people are necessarily ugly, and I certainly don't feel disgust toward them. In fact, I don't really assign any sort of value judgment to excess weight, positive or negative. But Lane Bryant was always a store for people who REALLY had a problem with their weight, not me.

I continue to refer to it as the Fat Lady Store, however, because it illustrates to me (and now you) what kind of denial I was in. All my life I knew I was overweight, but it was never really THAT "bad," right, because I could shop at regular stores, couldn't I? Well, now I couldn't. I have not felt as dejected and upset with myself in a long time as I did the day I went there to get pants. In fact, I even thought I might fit into their 16s, because given that brand sizes run differently, I thought theirs might run a bit large. But no, I didn't. It was when I tried on 18s in a certain style and those didn't fit that I really started freaking out. However, that ended up being just that particular style, and I got a different pair of pants in 18. But standing there, trying on pants made for people built like Humpty Dumpty - a form I was fast approaching, since that's how I gain weight, all in the gut! - was such a cruel slap in the face about myself that I wanted to cry. I also ALMOST vowed to never drink another soda again right there, but ultimately decided going in with no plan and mental preparation would probably result in a failure.

Before I went in, I had been forming a plan in my mind based on Guiliano's book, but when I left, I was even more determined to really give it my all this time. I am afraid that if I actually reach size 20, I'll just give up entirely, which is even more terrifying than trying.