Why Scarecrow, you say? Well, because when I stand up, my pants don’t.
OK, not really that bad. But it feels that way.
Here’s the situation. I suspect that I can’t tell what “fit” means anymore. For the last 4+ years (from second pregnancy until Jan of this year) I have been in mostly the dreaded Knit Pants or loose dresses – the refuge of the truly fat. You know, the ones that come in a number (or number of X’s) instead of a normal size? So (a) I am not entirely sure what size I needed when I started, and(b) I was not used to having my clothes really “touch” me at all anymore and anything fitted at all feels too tight! As to (b), it isn’t that it is uncomfortable so much as that I do not want to be that fat chick who appears to be in denial about the size of her boo-tay, and so crams it into pants a size (or two) too small for her.
But as to (a) (what size I started at) I know that after No. 2 was born, Avenue pants (which tend to be pretty consistent, style to style and year to year (and pant to pant, which is occasionally a problem with some low quality plus size stuff) in a 28 were tight. I refused to buy anything bigger than that, and I refused to wear tight 28s, so hence the knit. I’ve been up and down since then, but let’s say that I have hardly been below it. And let’s say that I started in a 30. Because I probably did. (Ironically, not because of my boo-tay, which has always been the round reason for needing big jeans, but because of the giant (for me) belly I acquired after the pregnancies and abdominal surgeries shredded my stomach).
So my aforementioned dear friend, who is likewise losing weight, is now wearing 22s and about to hit 20s. She kindly gave me her 24s and I was pleased to see that the Avenue 24 fits just fine. I wore a pair today.
Trouble is, although they fit nicely (?) when I zipped them up, meaning no tugging or anything whatsoever, by lunch they were falling dowwwwwwn loose. I know that is partly because they are real live cotton twill (no spandex) so they don’t stretch when I sit and go back to where they belong. But it makes me wonder if I should try a 22, or if that is just delusional. I still weigh in the range I was when I wore 24 before, so… dunno. But they are really bugging me, these falling off pants.
Perhaps I will try a 22 this weekend and see if I feel/look like/feel that I look like a stuffed sausage. For now, I will just look like a bag ladeh.