I doubt there has ever been a truer statement, and it is especially accurate for yours truly. I absolutely despise every aspect of shopping for clothes.
Picking my giant clothes up off the rack is the first part of the horrid endeavor. As if it's not horrifying enough to have to search for shirts in a size that contains more X's than Taylor Swifts little black book, you then have to view the giant piece of fabric in all its glory.
|Fat man shirts are displayed on slightly different racks.|
After having this happen a few too many times, I resolved to never experience it again. To achieve this, however, I would have to send my wife on shopping trips for me and hope that she came home with clothes that fit. Initially, it seemed like the perfect plan. She didn't seem to mind shopping, and I hated it, and somehow she was returning from her trips with clothes that fit my giant form.
Naturally, I asked no questions. Why would I ruin a good thing by looking at tags, or receipts? I did notice, however, that all the pants she purchased seemed to be a bit longer than any pair I had ever owned. What she claimed was the "same length I've always bought for you" was now dragging the ground. Had my legs began to shrink? Nothing else seems to be shrinking, why would my legs? Perplexed, I forced myself to check the tag of my khaki pants... "32 length, just like always. Maybe my legs really are getting shorter. Wait, what does that say? DEAR GOD, IT CAN'T BE..."
|NOOOOOOO!!!!!! Not Big and Tall!!!!!|
Despite my shock and overall disgust, I went on with my life just like before. The fact that I had made "The Jump" to Big and Tall clothes still wasn't enough to change my fast food eating/ couch sitting ways. Somehow, I was still just happy to have some clothes that "fit".
Today is a new day. Well, not really today, but yesterday.
Yesterday, several years after the trauma of "the Jump" and nearly two full months into my fitness endeavor, I found myself staring into the closet in our spare bedroom. Without really looking for them, I stumbled across two pairs of pants, size 40 x 32 (not Big and Tall) that the tags had never been removed from. Riding the high of a decent morning weigh in I temporarily lost my mind and said to myself "I wonder how long it will be before these fit."
Without thinking, I slipped the first pair on, and to my surprise THEY ACTUALLY BUTTONED! Not only did they button, but they buttoned comfortably. I excitedly stepped in front of the mirror to confirm what I was seeing from a different point of view. Then, for the first time in a very long time, I smiled at myself while looking in a mirror.
Without even realizing it, I had unknowingly reversed one of the most traumatic moments of my adult life. I can now walk into any store and find clothing that fits, without having to go to a "specialty" section. All of my hard work in the gym, and perhaps more importantly in the kitchen, has really paid off. As a matter of fact, I think I may even take a shopping trip for myself soon. I still won't be completely satisfied, but I will certainly like what I see in the dressing room mirror a lot more than the last time I stood there.
When I return from that shopping trip, I am also considering having a "fat clothes bonfire." I'm sure the experience of watching my old clothes burn to a pile of ash would be very liberating. My only concern is, i'm not sure the local fire departments are equipped to extinguish a blaze of that magnitude.