There was a time in my life when I would get very excited when end of season sales started. I was younger, and I’m assuming I also had more money to spend. Actually, I definitely had more money to spend then. I would be there as the shops opened on the first day of sales full of energy and enthusiasm for the day that lay ahead. I still love a good sale, and still get that endorphin rush when I realise how much money I’ve saved. This is the third year that Alberto has bought me a beautiful, classic designer winter coat 70% off the original price. (So if you see me out wearing an expensive coat, please know I never paid full price for it).
Yesterday, late in the afternoon with exhaustion creeping up on me and cold symptoms enveloping my body, I decided to brave the shops as we were going out and I decided I had ‘nothing to wear’! I wasn’t sure if I had the patience to go into shops filled with hard core sale shoppers, stand in the lines to try clothes on, or have the strength to deal with not finding anything. I decided that I would visit just three shops. One of these has clothes with french sizes… so I had work out what the equivalent was in Italy, and invariably visited the changing room three times (with the same items of clothing) until I got the sizes right. Waiting in line for the changing room with the other women, I felt the odd one out – like I didn’t belong and I was convinced (in my paranoid head) that they were all wondering what was I doing there.
I will not hide the fact that I have put on weight this year, especially since August when I stopped going to the gym. None of my clothes fit me properly and even my bras are struggling to keep the girls contained. I do not understand with the growth of technology over the last 10 years, why nobody is yet to develop flattering lighting in changing rooms and mirrors that stretch us upwards just a little. It dawned on me that this adventure I had taken myself on was highly likely to throw me into the depths of depression as the spacious changing room I was in had TWO unflattering mirrors, which provided a 360 degree view of my body. OH. MY. GOD! Cellulite has taken over my body…. front and back… And YES! My bum does look fat in that! (well in everything as I discovered). Undies up your bum, ankle socks and cellulite is NOT a good look!!! Oh the last five years had not been kind to me… or was it me that had not been kind to my body? I often wonder at the injustices Mother Nature gifted us with. WHY are we not given the over 40 year old brain on our 20 year old body?
I also almost had an embarrassing mishap. You know when you pull something over your head, pul it down over your body, realise it’s not for you then realise SHOCK HORROR that you can’t get it off? I felt my arms cramping and the top I had on (no stretch fabric) was stuck! Facing the option of asking the skinny salesgirl policing the changing rooms to assist me, thus revealing my body and alerting the long line of hip (young) fashionistas of my demise, I decided this was a predicament I had to get out of by myself. I bent over and found this position facilitated the top shifting positions and I was able to lift it off over my head. Stupidity meant that I took a glance in the mirror while I was hunched over and I can assure you it’s a miracle I didn’t throw myself into the Tiber River on my way home.
Anyway, like all good fairytales, this does have a happy ending of sorts. I found a pair of pants (trousers) that are high waisted and flattering and make me feel like I’ve lost 5kg, and a black top that is drapey and flowing and hides all the bits that I don’t want to show. Alberto’s birthday was today, so after enjoying the birthday tiramisu which his mother made, and having seconds I realise my diet really needs to start tomorrow. I simply cannot continue heading in the direction that my body has been moving in over the last few months. So, there will be no more daily buffalo mozzarella, pasta will be avoided as will bread. I’m not sure how long I’ll last, but I’ll share my successes and failures with you all.