Believe it or not, there is a curse to weight loss.
Clothing that no longer fits.
You might not believe that’s a curse, but it is – at least when you’ve lost a substantial amount of weight, and you still have a ways to go. You have to buy interim clothing.
I’ve lost over 40 pounds, now, and the clothing I’ve been wearing just doesn’t fit anymore. My pants are baggy. My shirts just hang there (except around the paunch that I still have – though my muffin top is noticeably smaller). My belts have almost as much notch space as they have space to encircle my waist. We don’t even want to talk about my jeans. I could pitch a tent with them, just like ol’ Levi Strauss did back in the Gold Rush Days.
I picked up a pair of cargo shorts today. They are 38s. I was wearing 42s and 44s when I came here. The problem is that these new shorts won’t last but for another 15 pounds or so. They’re not tight at all; in fact, there’s thumb space all the way around the waistband. And, that’s the rub. I have another 50 or so pounds to lose.
It’s almost like buying a computer system; you buy one today, it’s cheaper tomorrow. Well, I buy these interim clothes, and they don’t fit next month. Hell, it’s almost like when I was in 7th grade and went from 5’6″ to 6’0″ in less than one school year. Clothes cost money. I am sure you all knew that; but, just how much would you be willing to shell out for temporary clothes?
Don’t get me wrong. I’ll take the weight loss and the cost of some interim clothing. But, it does give me pause as I try to figure out just how much I am willing to dole out in support of not looking like a homeless guy tramping around in oversized trousers held up by a piece of rope. As such, I’ve picked a line in the sand.
When I hit 220 (about 8 pounds or so from now), I will no longer be classified obese; I will be merely overweight (according to BMI – Body Mass Index). At that point, I will pick up some new pants and some new shirts. Those new clothes should carry me through my goal weight of 180. Granted, they’ll be pretty baggy by the time I get there. But, trust me, when I weigh 180, I ain’t going to be too bothered by the cost of retooling my closet.
Now, I’ll have to figure out what to do with all these clothes I brought with me. I am NOT taking them back home with me. Maybe the shirts. Cristina and I can use them for work shirts in the garden and around the place. Maybe I’ll sell the pants to some Bedu for tenting material.