An Empty Container, Alteration Nation and... Am I a Cheater?

I went downstairs to gather up some laundry to do. *sigh* Yes... More frakking laundry, today. I might as well just climb into the fucking washing machine and live in there. :P Sad, but true. My life seems to be one long laundry session, lately. Anywhoozle... While I was down there I looked at The Container. The Big Orange Container that contained some smaller clothes. Clothes that last Fall, I couldn't really fit into. Clothes that a few of which I was able to sausage into. Clothes I honestly thought I still had no chance in hell of wearing.

Especially with my shitty efforts weight wise, lately.

But, on some crazy whim, I hauled that container out of my closet, hefted it up on my bed, opened it up and thought, "What the heck! Can't hurt to try..." And started trying stuff on. And, much to my shock and utter delight, a lot of it now fits. I felt, at first as if it were all too small, still. Feeling clothes actually conform to my actual anatomy is foreign to me. I am not used to it. And I was under the impression that everything was still too impossibly tight. But, looking in the mirror I learned that to the contrary, the garments fit. Properly. Comfortably. And are where they should be. Pants crotches actually fit my anatomical crotch, not hang nearly to my knees. Armholes are in the proper place, not hanging halfway to my waist and elbow.

Oh! And speaking of my waist? Believe it or not, I am actually beginning to get one. A hint of a figure is beginning to emerge. Curves are making themselves known. Bust curving in to waist out to hips, in to legs and down. Kinda freaky, when I think about it. I haven't seen a hint of a real figure on this bod for many, many years.

So, now I have more laundry to do. All those garments are clean, but smell a but fusty from being cooped up in a container for so long. I also need to take all of my now way too big Winter wear down and stash it away. I will eventually pass along or Freecycle it all. I am not going to wear it anymore. And, once I am comfortable with letting them go (which will be soon, I am already mentally preparing Freecycle listings), go they will, since I have absolutely no plans to ever need them, again. And keeping them? Nuh-uh! No way. I am not giving myself an out. Not hanging on to the possibility of "just in case". There is no "just in case". There can't be. I will soon, once again be past the point of no return with my clothes.

I have to admit... It feels a little scary. But it also feels so freeing. Just the thought of letting go of garments I have looked at and worn and hauled around with me for so very long is liberating. And will give me a sense of moving forward. Besides which, I have had some of those things for so long, that just the thought of putting them on, again makes me want to puke. I mean, it has been so long since I have bought any new clothes that knowing I am going to get to wear different things makes me positively giddy. lol

As you may or may not remember, I have been wearing some really nice Venetzia (or howeverthefuck you spell it lol) jeans that were gifted to my by a lovely, generous bloggy buddy. They are a seven, blue. I have learned that that translates to 26/28 curvy. They are getting a little loose... I am dreading the day I can no longer wear them. Not because I don't want to lose more weight but because I love, love, love those jeans so. much! To have to say goodbye to them just breaks my little heart. But, anyway, I tried on a cute pair of cotton pants, same maker, if I remember correctly; a size three and they fit! I was barely able to pull them up over my hips and gut, lat Fall. They are perfect, now. So, I have some fresh, pretty, casual pants to wear with a lightweight top for Spring and part of the Summer.

I am also able to finally wear a pretty pink top I bought a long time ago. And a bunch of others. I suppose I am going to have to go in to Lane Bryant or Catherine's or somewhere and find a new pair of jeans to hold me over, once the sevens just get too big. Then I can pass the sevens on.I suppose I can try a five? Maybe a four, too? It is so strange to me to think of having to size down. I am so used to looking for the biggest size and praying I can stuff my huge bod into it. This is just weird to me. lol

I also have hanging in my closet an old pair of jeans. I bought them back in... 1990? I think? It was back before vanity sizing ran amok, back when a size 26 was a lot smaller than it is, now. Those jeans look small. I mean, tiny to my eyes. They hang in my closet in my jeans section (yes, my closet is big enough for me to have clothes sections, heh heh) as an inspiration piece. I seriously doubt that I will actually wear them, when I do fit them because, well... They are pretty bad. Tapered legs, slight acid wash, some pleats... yeah. Maybe for working around, doing "dirty work". Certainly not to be seen in out and about. lol But I use them as a little "When I can wear those, again I will know I am making some rock solid, real progress" kind of thing.

So, just for shits and giggles, I grabbed those jeans, today and hauled them on. And haul I did. lolol I seriously doubted I would get them past my knees, to be perfectly honest. Well, I got them past my knees. Past my thighs and my hips and my big old hanging gut. I got those suckers up. Can't fasten them. Not even close. I would imagine the gap between metal button and button hole is a good... Seven inches or so. lol But I felt pride that I have come this far. I would like to be able to wear those jeans by Fall. Maybe sooner?

Maybe...

Okay so now, I just have a few "future wear" things left. Not enough for a big container, fo shizz. A little stack that fit neatly into part of a dresser drawer. So, I will use that container for some stuffies and a few other little sentimental to me things I want to keep. 

Oh! I tried on a pair of size 24 capris. Laughing at myself the whole time for my folly at thinking I could ever squeeze into a size 24. Until I got them on, comfortably fastened up and looked at them in the mirror. They are just a tad tight, in a couple of spots. But too loose in the waist. I am a classic hourglass and that is beginning to become a problem as my figure emerges. I should be able to wear those capris shortly but before I do, I am going to have to alter them so that they fit properly in the waist. I can't walk around with a huge gap there. lol

I also tried on a couple of tops that I like, mostly. But they need a little tweaking to become exactly what I want. A couple have long sleeves and it is getting warmer, so I am going to shorten the sleeves to 3/4 length or short. (I love 3/4 length sleeves, I just think that they look so ladylike. :)) And one top is going to get taken apart and reworked into a different thing, altogether. Projects. They keep my fingers busy and out of the snacks.And give me new things to enjoy. :D

Okay, before I wrap up this really, really long entry I want to discuss a subject near and dear to many of us.

Shapers. I admit, I own a couple. And I love them. I have had them for a long time. I haven't fit into them until just now, I got way to big for them for years. Now that I can wear them, again I plan to, when the outfit or occasion calls for it. I tried on pants today both without and with the shaper. And I have to admit, I like how they looked with, better. I know I am the size I am and no tight, knitted synthetic gut sucker is going to fool me or anyone else. But the shaper makes my clothes look a little better. It pulls my hanging gut in and up some, tightens and smooths it and my butt a little bit. I don't really shrink a size, or anything. I just look and feel better in my clothes in it.

So, is wearing a shaper cheating? Is it wrong to be so happy that my huge, hanging gut is a little less huge, less hanging, just a little less? Is it wrong or too vain? I mean, I don't have shapers for my batwings. They just have to fly free, declaring themselves to the world. And while I am not thrilled with them, I am even less thrilled by the gut hang and while I can live with the batwings without too much trouble (except that I have elbow overhang that I am not too thrilled about, but that is a different discussion for a different day) I just hate the gut hang with a purple polka dotted passion. And I feel better about myself with the shaper.

In this odyssey to rediscover me, myself, my truths, is wearing a shaper a lie? Is it cheating? Am I copping out? Denying myself? Denying my reality and who I really am?

Honestly, I don't think so. Am I any less who I am because I choose to tighten up my gut a little? No. Am I cheating, trying to pass myself off as something I am not with that particular underpinning? I don't believe I am. I mean, if good undergarments were a cheat, I would have to leave off my bras and let my boobs fly free. After all, my great, huge gajongas are also me. They are part of me. They are my truth. I can't deny them. Obviously. :P But I can damned well contain those bitches. I can put on an industrial strength brassiere that gets them up high, tight and where boobs should be. I can shape and mould them to look better, a little smaller. I can prevent them from flapping and flying around. I can keep them from giving me a black eye, taking out my kneecaps, breaking things or injuring the people around me.

And I do.

And I don't see why it should be any different for my gut.

For the record, my "new" things fit as well without the shaper as with, I just like how everything looks with it, a bit better. ;)

Okay, I have some crocheting to get to. I am working on something. A prototype, if you will. I'll let you know if it works out.

Later, lovebugs. And, if you waded through all of this babble, I am passing you a yummy sugar free butter cookie.