Category Archives: Fashion

Words Of Wisdom From A Stick Insect

I shop at a very expensive yoga clothing store. As a ballet teacher, I wear that type of clothing 6 days a week for work and get a special discount there because of my position.

A few weeks ago I had a gift card to said store and went to buy a new yoga top and pants. I don’t try things on there. I just grab them in a size 6 and they fit***

I got home and put the yoga top on and it looked awful. The built-in bra didn’t cover my boobs – it fit in the band around my ribs, but the length of the material was just to short to comfortably cover everything and not squish them awkwardly. I was disappointed as the top looked pretty on the hanger, but I knew a size 8 would be too big around the ribs so I went to return it and get my money back.

“What was wrong with it?” the stick insect behind the counter asked as she rang through my exchange.

“It just looked lovely on the hanger but horrible on,” I responded without going into detail about how a 6 fits in the ribs, but doesn’t have enough material to contain my boobs.

She looked disparagingly at me, “yeah you do have to have that certain body type for this top.”

I think my jaw hit the floor.

She kept looking at me.

“Well obviously I just don’t have that body type,” I responded incredulously.

She smiled in mock sympathy, “I know what you mean.”

I took my money and left in disgust.

*** I used to be a size 2 or 4 in this store. Barfing at my own fatness.

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Too Big Too Small

 

I bought a high waisted pencil skirt for my date tonight. It is a size 2. It is too big in the waist and too small in the hips. I don’t want to go out because I am so fat.

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Size Matters

Size Matters

I went clothes shopping today.

Everyone with ED knows how traumatic this is. I DO NOT try things on in the store. I pick out things in the size that I think I am and psyche myself up when I get home for the inevitable disappointment that is coming.

I picked out two pairs of pants in size 6 that looked like they would fit. Sadly one of them was actually a size 8 which was severely depressing to find out after I got them on and they fit. The other size 6 went on without difficulty. This time last year, I could get into a 2 (sometimes) or 4 so it is rather sad to know that I have gone back to a 6. I think the only reason that I haven’t slit my wrists tonight is because I knew I was heavier and I was anticipating the 6 not going past my knees. I am relieved even though I should be disgusted.

I bought about seven tops (they are usually a safer bet than pants). A couple of smalls fit. One was too small. One medium was too tight and one fit just right and one was too loose. I feel like Goldilocks. Just goes to show that sizes really are skewed. This time last year I could grab an extra small off the rack and know it would look good. I forgot how it feels to be thin. A workout top in a medium hung off me. Workout pants in a medium were too small to the point that it was revolting. I had the expected (disproportionate) reaction to each: joy and horror.

On the plus size side, I can still squeeze into many of my pants that I wore last year when I was 10-15lbs lighter (as a reminder). To be fair, there are two that are lying on my closet floor because I broke the zippers trying to wriggle into them. I only ever buy pants when I am skinny in a starvation phase and I refuse to buy bigger sizes when my weight goes up. I just walk around looking like a sausage roll and being uncomfortable. I am too terrified of buying bigger pants and admitting the truth that I spend my life denying. I am scared that a size 8 will become a size 10 will become a size 12.

I even sleep in too tight pants to remind myself to stop eating. Tonight I am eating salad and drinking wine. I was sure I was going to binge tonight from work anxiety and the reality of being a size 6. It might still happen. After all, size matters.

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How Not To Buy Pants In “Recovery”

Last night I had the moment in recovery that always sends me running back into the arms of ED. I went clothes shopping.

I have a terrible habit of only ever buying pants when I am in starvation mode and can squeeze into a size 4 or 2. (Size 0 has never been attainable for me.) Last night I (rather stupidly) thought that I could handle buying a pair of size 6 pants. I thought I was being realistic although I was not brave enough to go and stand in a changing room in the store and look at myself. Instead, I got them home and they were so tight that I immediately lost my mind. I cried, I cursed, I mouthed off at God for not understanding that I cannot be this fat and maintain recovery.

I ate half a box of ex-lax, binged on quinoa salad and vegan coconut macaroons, ate the other half of the box of laxatives and went to bed mad, sad and distressed. I cannot deal with this excess of flesh. I cannot deal with barely fitting into a size 6 where six months ago I swam in my size 4 pants and purged until kingdom come. I panicked last night. I did what I always do when that fear overwhelms me. I broke down and abused myself for being a failure.

The only thin, almost non-existent, silver lining is that I did not purge last night even though it was all I wanted to do. I did get up this morning (after being up all night thanks to ex-lax) and went for a run, continuing on with my 5k training program. I got a migraine almost instantaneously and have spent the day in excruciating pain, both physical and mental. This anguish knows no bounds. I want to be well. I want to be thin. And not just any thin, but the thin that I believe to be beautiful: bones.

On a lighter note, never wear your new cream coloured pants to work after consuming a box of ex-lax the night before. Just in case……

I should have more faith. I really should, but not today. Maybe tomorrow?

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I’m So Fat I Split My (Fat) Pants

I have been ‘feeling’ fat for about 2 months now, since I lost the will to starve and over exercise and returned to ‘healthy’ eating (orthorexia) with a side of bulimia thrown in. My doctor also halved my thyroid medication which I suspect is not helping and might actually be contributing to my weight gain. Tonight I came home after ballet and went on a good binge…..chips, cheese, bread, cream puffs and carrot cake. It has been 5 days since my last binge/purge session which is a record for me lately.
All was well until I stood up and ripped my pants. Imagine my horror when the thigh just split open and my fat came pouring out. Needless to say, I am on my way to ‘bath’ (which is code for purging) and to pay penance for my sins of ripping my (fat) pants which are incidentally a whopping size 4. I have been tired of gaining lately and living with the heaviness that comes from being heavier than I can cope with. Tomorrow I am back in starvation mode without a shadow of a doubt that it is the right thing to do. I took a photo of my ripped pants as my newest thinspiration. Let it haunt me until I am thin again.
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