Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Pinching an inch
WARNING! this is a post about having a fat day. If such topics make you feel a bit uncomfortable please navigate away... now.
The catalyst to this waffle is that I've put on an inch around my hips but lost one from my bust. Mother nature can be cruel.
I've always been a bit apprehensive talking about my weight for fear onlookers will believe I am fishing for compliments. Many girls, myself included, have fallen into 'that' mechanical ladies powder room-esque conversation...
"Oh I have such fat thighs, I wish I looked like you in that dress" ...
a brief silence ensues till the reply echos out...
"Oh no, I love how you look in that top, I wish my boobs were a good as yours"
I know the sisterhood should stick together and nurture one another, but sometimes we're allowed to feel genuinely... well, porky. And, today, that is how I feel, this post is certainly not seeking for any ego inflating comments to the contrary. I'm just a bit fed up that my crepe 30's dresses are a bit snug.
I also fear I could offend by speaking about it. I was once taken into the confidence of a gorgeous, leggy, size 8 siren. Whilst she complained that she had back fat I looked on trying to work out precisely where this elusive glutinous deposit was concealing itself? Each of her gripes made me feel increasingly hefty, my inner logic fathoming that if this nubile beauty thinks she's stocky then surely I'm beyond Rubenesque?
I most certainly do not want to alienate anyone reading about my love handle wallowings, in case they look at me and not be able to locate the extra inch I'm griping about but, as a result, suddenly become increasingly aware of their wobbly bits!
I think most women have body issues and I'm no exception. As a child I was always bigger than the other kids, my Scapegoat? ... Ostermilk; a powdered milk feed that "builds up" small babies... basically infant steroids... and as a teeny mewling ball of one month jaundiced prematurity I was doomed to be force fed the stuff. At 12 I developed into a rather rotund red cheeked teenager boasting a stone for each tender year and by my early twenties I had withered to a size eight through a mixture of stress and ridiculous eating habits, rice cakes alone were my friend... I was a miserable bitch!
Back on track at 29 I know I will never be a "skinny lizzy" (to coin a phrase from my Mother.) But I do like to feel svelte and the older I'm getting the more I notice sudden differences in my body shape, for instance that bump between the top of my thigh and hip... where's that come from?! And why precisely are my boobs shrinking and migrating south to my mysteriously expanding derriere?
And before you blame diet and exercise I can vouch that I'm active and careful, just not fanatical about my food intake, having lived on all those silly rice cakes and for a time only steak (oh I smelt... bad) I refuse to fall into "fad" diets and just stick to a healthy balance. I want cake I'll darn well have a piece! Life's too short!
What this post is getting at, albeit a little incoherently, is that if you're out there feeling a bit of the post Christmas wobbles and are a bit fed up about it then you're not alone. It may help to do as I'm trying to do and embrace those rogue lumps and bumps as a bonus extra feature... for a limited time only... 'till the Christmas pudd effects have worn off! ;)