My weight, the number that is, does not matter to me. I am sure I have added and gained regularly, but I have bought the same size clothes for 3 years. As long as the number on my jeans does not increase, I am all good. The only time I see a scale is when I go to the doctor. We all know that the ONLY weight that can be recorded is first thing in the morning, after you pee…BUTT NAKED. There is no way the doctor’s scale correct, so I don’t even bother looking. I don’t have room in my day for such useless knowledge 🙂
I bought some jeans at Old Navy a month or so ago…and they felt kinda big. I thought it would be no big deal after I washed them and put on a belt. Unfortunately, to keep them in place required the belt to be so tight across my waist that it was the only thing that stayed in place. The jeans still slipped down and hang by the loops. Since we have already discussed my hell fire “condition”; I am sure you can imagine after a day at work, it looks like I got chub rub from hula hooping.
So I decided to grab a pair in a size smaller. Low and behold….they fit much better. Sweet mother of God. I don’t care if this is a world wide marketing ploy… I have quite a skip in my step just thinking about how long it has been since I have seen this number on denim.