There's a Party in My Pants

I went on a little pants-buying spree at Filene's Basement tonight to buy myself some new stuff that actually fits me. (Side note: Whoever Filene is, she is a saint because her Basement is full of amazing bargains.) I've lost 24 pounds now, and the pants that fit me when I was heavier look terrible on me now. I was wearing a pair of khakis today, and when I caught a glimpse of myself from the rear, I noticed my ass looked like something from IHOP. And by that, I do not mean it looked rooty-tooty, fresh and fruity. I mean that it looked like a pancake.

I realize that the musician in charge of the world's smallest violin is playing right now as I'm complaining that I'm just swimming in all my clothes. However, I'm kind of at a weird juncture in my weight loss because I've lost a significant enough amount that my old clothes make me look frumpy-dumpy but I still have more to lose, so I don't want to spend a shit-ton of money on new stuff (thus, Filene's Basement). I think it's important to buy new clothes to show off the new shape I've worked so hard to attain because it gives me encouragement to continue in this positive vein. Also, it would be massively unfair to be eating diet-type food and yet looking worse than I did when I was eating a steady diet of butter sticks and bacon grease because I'm wearing bag lady-sized clothes.

So, I bought two new pairs of work pants and three pairs of jeans. Two of the pairs were from Seven, a brand I have never before worn, and I was able to buy the jeans TWO (yes, two) sizes smaller than I wore when I started Weight Watchers. Frankly, had the jeans cost $700 a pair, I would have bought them, and it was just my good luck that they were reasonably-priced.