Yesterday I finally gave up on my favorite pair of jeans. Having to practically hold a death grip on the belt loops every moment to ensure they wouldn’t plummet to my ankles and let out Victoria’s Secret was so frustrating, and I hoped that at 25 pounds less than I’d started, I could buy a pair of jeans in a smaller size than the ones I had. My former faves are size 20s from Deb.
My new faves are size 16 from Old Navy.
I had tried on the same pair a few weeks prior. Then, as I checked myself out in the dressing room mirror, I blinked in horror: in those jeans, my legs looked like hefty sumo wrestlers trying to escape a cheap duffel bag. This time, miraculously they slipped on, zipped up, and even made my ass look good. Bonus!
Those jeans aren’t the only thing in my overstuffed closet that no longer fit. They’ve been piling up, actually; so I’ve decided to start what I’ve termed “The Stack.”
“The Stack” is even going to get its own page – every time it grows, I’m going to snap a photo. The Stack contains all the pants, shirts, and dresses that absolutely don’t fit me anymore. I’m hanging onto all my t-shirts to wear to the gym, and I like pj pants the bigger, the better. Everything else, however, is going into this stack. The day that I hit negative 100 pounds, I’m taking The Stack to Plato’s Closet, turning it in for a few bucks, and going shopping.