It appears that no one is going to lock me in a crate and feed me an allotted amount of kibble and force me to walk around the block on a leash until I lose an appropriate amount of weight for my species. And honestly, I think my dogs would be fat if they had prehensile thumbs or could figure out how to open the fridge. Like me, they really love their chow.
I believe the human equivalent requires one to be Oprah-rich in order to pay for a personal chef and trainer. Yeah, I don’t got that.
I’ve managed to keep off the 8 pounds I lost, but when it comes to weight loss, I tend to be one of those glass half-empty girls. It just never seems good enough. And the holidays are just around the corner, which means seeing all the relatives and realizing that, once again, I am the heaviest of my clan, which is, unfortunately, populated with Skinny Bitches of all ages. My mother, even at 85, can be kinda judgey.
I am at this point, a plus size woman. That’s hard for me to believe because I’ve never really considered myself to be plus size. But when that Jessica Rabbit costume came from Amazon in a size “large,” I had to send that baby right back for an “extra large,” and even then, I had to starve and spanx myself into fitting into that XL sequined sucker. Honestly, if I lose 20 lbs, that costume might still fit. I suspect my costume was made for tiny Asian ladies.
Here’s a good story about tiny Asian ladies. I live in the O.C. where there is a significant Asian population. Actually, we’re pretty well populated by many ethnicities, which I love--so much good food (Again, plus size). But this story involves tiny Asian ladies. And boobs.
Once, at Victoria’s Secret, I was waiting for my turn to see the bra specialist. As all women know, one of most trying things in the world is finding the right bra. It can be a hot sweaty mess in the fitting room grappling with those octopus-like straps and fasteners. And god help you if you’re looking for any special needs like strapless or plunging back. So yeah, you need a specialist and every Victoria Secret store has one.
So I’m waiting for my turn and there’s this youngish woman in front of me. She’s probs in her mid-thirties (Yes, that’s youngish--ah, perspective), and she tells the specialist that her bra size is a 32DD. Now, if you know your bra sizes, that’s like some serious Barbie shit there. And hers looked like they were naturally occurring breasts, so, whoa.
Have you seen L.A. Story? The scene where Sarah Jessica Parker whips around with a measuring tape, talking non-stop while provocatively measuring every inch of Steve Martin, including his inseam? Well something pretty much like this ensues. The specialist, who is dressed all in black and has a measuring tape around her neck and looks super fierce, gives the woman this shrewd once over and shakes her head. While skipping around SJP style, she says, “Oh, no, honey. My only 32DDs are my Asian girls with boob jobs.”
So I stand by my opinion that my Jessica Rabbit costume was made for a tiny Asian woman, which translates to say that particular XL might still keep me out of the plus size here in the U.S. Maybe. By the way, did you know those costumes that you buy at Halloween, the ones hanging in those plastic bags are called, “Slut in a Bag?” Mine was strapless and did have a rather high slit.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
I believe the human equivalent requires one to be Oprah-rich in order to pay for a personal chef and trainer. Yeah, I don’t got that.
I’ve managed to keep off the 8 pounds I lost, but when it comes to weight loss, I tend to be one of those glass half-empty girls. It just never seems good enough. And the holidays are just around the corner, which means seeing all the relatives and realizing that, once again, I am the heaviest of my clan, which is, unfortunately, populated with Skinny Bitches of all ages. My mother, even at 85, can be kinda judgey.
I am at this point, a plus size woman. That’s hard for me to believe because I’ve never really considered myself to be plus size. But when that Jessica Rabbit costume came from Amazon in a size “large,” I had to send that baby right back for an “extra large,” and even then, I had to starve and spanx myself into fitting into that XL sequined sucker. Honestly, if I lose 20 lbs, that costume might still fit. I suspect my costume was made for tiny Asian ladies.
Here’s a good story about tiny Asian ladies. I live in the O.C. where there is a significant Asian population. Actually, we’re pretty well populated by many ethnicities, which I love--so much good food (Again, plus size). But this story involves tiny Asian ladies. And boobs.
Once, at Victoria’s Secret, I was waiting for my turn to see the bra specialist. As all women know, one of most trying things in the world is finding the right bra. It can be a hot sweaty mess in the fitting room grappling with those octopus-like straps and fasteners. And god help you if you’re looking for any special needs like strapless or plunging back. So yeah, you need a specialist and every Victoria Secret store has one.
So I’m waiting for my turn and there’s this youngish woman in front of me. She’s probs in her mid-thirties (Yes, that’s youngish--ah, perspective), and she tells the specialist that her bra size is a 32DD. Now, if you know your bra sizes, that’s like some serious Barbie shit there. And hers looked like they were naturally occurring breasts, so, whoa.
Have you seen L.A. Story? The scene where Sarah Jessica Parker whips around with a measuring tape, talking non-stop while provocatively measuring every inch of Steve Martin, including his inseam? Well something pretty much like this ensues. The specialist, who is dressed all in black and has a measuring tape around her neck and looks super fierce, gives the woman this shrewd once over and shakes her head. While skipping around SJP style, she says, “Oh, no, honey. My only 32DDs are my Asian girls with boob jobs.”
So I stand by my opinion that my Jessica Rabbit costume was made for a tiny Asian woman, which translates to say that particular XL might still keep me out of the plus size here in the U.S. Maybe. By the way, did you know those costumes that you buy at Halloween, the ones hanging in those plastic bags are called, “Slut in a Bag?” Mine was strapless and did have a rather high slit.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
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