What about the clothes?

I got an email question from a reader yesterday:

I'm wondering how you've dealt with dressing yourself as you've lost
weight. I've vacillated between two sizes over the years and as the
smaller size gets looser, I'm not sure how much I want to invest in
new clothes. I'm assuming you've gone through more sizes than me --
do you have clothes in all the sizes in your closet? Are you getting
rid of the big ones or keeping them for possible future postpartum
times?

Not counting maternity wear, I have pants in 14, 12, 10, 8, 6, 4, and now 2.  I have bras in three cup sizes.  I have shirts in all the sizes from XL down to S.  I have four different sizes of swimsuit.

What I have mostly done: replace a few pieces at a time as they became unwearable.  My two pairs of black pants don't fit, ok, it's time to get a new pair of black pants.  Jeans falling off, ok, it's time to get a new pair of jeans.  A few items (mainly elastic-waist skirts) have stuck with me from the beginning to the bitter end.  Sadly, some of my favorite items don't fit and can't be found; oh, Sahalie.com, when will you sell your fleece overalls again?  Please, I'm freezing here in Minnesota.

All the outsized stuff is in a big pile on the spare bed.   Like you suggested, I'm thinking about a future possible pregnancy.  If it weren't for that,  I'd make a big clothing donation right away.  I am convinced that getting rid of The Fat Clothes is an important symbolic step, and that having clothes that fit you well are an important signal to you that you're the right size.  If you're trying to lose, they should feel (but not look) the tiniest bit too tight, at least after you've had a big meal.  

This has been a really expensive year, clothes-wise, as you can imagine.  Mark keeps telling me, every time I fret about how much I had to spend, "How much is it worth it to us for you to lose forty pounds?"  The answer is, I think, more than the cost of the clothes.   

But you'd be surprised at some of the extra costs.  I'm gonna have to get my wedding rings resized, for one thing.  And I bought a fair amount of swimming paraphernalia when I got started.  And, um, I've spent a lot of money on diet books and books about swimming.

Let me tell you about the money I spent today, out by myself while Mark had the kids.   A couple of weeks ago I tried running on the treadmill, and my athletic pants -- size 12, my only pair, bought in 1996 -- kept wanting to fall off.  And then last week I tried wearing them and a tee shirt to a yoga class, and the pants fell down and exposed my squishy mommy tummy -- Now With Extra Flaps Of Skin! -- and when I bent over, my overlarge tee shirt fell over my head and showed everyone my sports bra.  (At least the bra is new and fits well.  I do have some priorities in order.)

So it was off to REI, and I was thinking only of which fabrics seemed more comfortable and which pants I could move in.  I tried on about a dozen different tops and pants, bending and stretching and eyeing them in the mirror to see if they would stay put in a yoga class.  I found some running capris that were the right length and that didn't have seams that irritated my thighs.  I found a wicking tee on the clearance rack.  Grabbed some extra athletic socks, and a pack-small bath towel for my gym bag, and headed for the cash register; and then when I stacked the merchandise on the counter and really saw what I was buying, I -- okay, this is really corny -- I almost started to cry.  

Because I hadn't noticed until then, but I -- I went into the sporting goods store to buy clothes that I NEEDED, not just clothes that I aspired to need.   Because I am a swimmer, I am a runner, I am a person who takes new exercise classes just for the heck of it, I am a person who never misses a workout.  I became that person and I don't think I really noticed it until that moment.

(After that I went to Old Navy and bought two pairs of size 2 jeans, just because I could.  Hey, I can only sustain the navel-gazing for so long.)

(Please, don't gaze at my navel.  It's all smooshy.)

Comments

[Amy F]

Thanks for the explanation :)

I think getting rid of everything more than 2 sizes too big would probably be a good idea. If pants 2 sizes big don't fit during pregnancy, it's time to get actual maternity clothes (which I suspect you have in the attic anyway) because the non-maternity large clothes are going to hang really funny. Even postpartum, maternity clothes ought to fit until the 2 sizes too big clothes work. It seems over-the-top to keep 5 sizes.

[bearing]

OK, Amy, you're right. It *is* pretty crazy to keep five sizes! I didn't buy TONS of stuff in the middle sizes, just enough to get me through, but you're absolutely right, there's stuff in there I'm hopefully never ever going to wear again.

[Amy F]

You should keep one of those pairs of size 14 pants so you can make goofy commercials, though :)

[bearing]

LOL! OK, you might get me to pose with the big pants.

Can I use maternity pants? Is that cheating?

[mary]

As a 5'2" 105 pounder in non-maternity life, I never found the 2 sizes too big solution to work well for me. I popped out pretty early, even with my first. I have frequently been somewhat frustrated with being so small because it limits places where I can shop. Stores that start at size 4 just don't have anything for me. Of course, there wasn't always old navy and target. I also love gap and banana republic, but now that I don't work full time it's difficult to justify spending the extra money.