So, what exactly could make me say the F word loudly in public… while on the phone with my mom… in a crowded store? You’d think from reading my many expletives that the answer would be a lot of things but I assure you that is not the case. I don’t usually swear in public… unless I’ve had Absinthe, whiskey, rum, vodka, no sleep, or a really startling occurrence. I reserve my potty mouth for the privacy of my home and for my little corner of the interweb… and isolated incidences of road rage.
So, what made me break that boundary? I shall make a short story long… or something like that.
I had forgotten my dress shoes at my mom’s on the day of the funeral and could not very well wear my pink, white, and silver running shoes with my black dress. No, that fashion foible is even too much for me. I went to go buy another pair of black shoes.
Deciding to at least pretend to be classy, I grabbed a pair of classic black pumps. Trying them on I was surprised at how roomy they felt. I mean, I’ve had trouble fitting into some size 9s in the past and with the four inch stiletto heel (under 6 inches and it can still be called classy… I think) on these, I thought they might be a tad tight. Au contraire, mein herr, they were distinctly roomy.
Suspecting that the brand was like Old Navy who lets me pretend that I’m slightly less fat than I am and buy the next size down, I grabbed an 8.5. These were still a tad loose but felt right.
Oh a whim, I decided to test out this theory and grab a different brand to try their 8.5. They fit. And another. They fit. And another. They fit. And another. They too fit. Holy fuck Batman, my feet shrunk.
I mean, I had heard that this happens sometimes when you lose weight but I didn’t actually think it would happen to me.
The phrase, “Oh my God, that’s fucking awesome,” might have escaped my lips before dialing my phone and telling my mom, “I fucking lost a shoe size, like for real, holy shit.”
The next steps, of course, are obvious. I have to replace my entire shoe wardrobe. I mean, I can’t wear ill fitting shoes, can I? No, I didn’t think so. It’s the only responsible thing to do. I got a jump start on that task by buying an extra pair of sparkly black flats. I mean, you can’t just let chores like that go, you have to get on it.
So, if you see a wild haired girl salivating in the 8.5 clearance shoe section of Nordstrom, Macy’s, DSW (sans clearance because all of those suckers are already on clearance), or any other pretentious stores; you’ll know that I’ll soon be strutting in a new pair of stiletto healed something’s that might get me mistaken for a high class hooker when leaving a friend’s apartment at 6am in downtown Seattle so that I can go to my mom’s house and get ready for work.
Not that it’s happened.
Still in my black dress.
With a flower headband.
No sir, I’m sorry, I do not have a business card… nor any available appointments.
And my hair always looks like this.
So, what’s the most surprising change that you’ve encountered with weight loss? Did you discover cheekbones and collar bones like me? Or find that your eye lids seem to have more space on them? Please do tell…