Back in late January, I ranted about an ad where a skinny model was wearing tummy tuck jeans. I railed that they ought to use plus size models. Well, someone at Lee jeans read the blog (ah, the marvel of Google alerts) and offered me a pair of tummy tuck jeans. Uh, I just happen to be a woman of a certain age, and I'm afraid I NEED tummy tuck jeans. So, I called their bluff and said I would love a pair of jeans.
Apparently there was some kind of mix-up at Lee, because I didn't get a pair of jeans. I was contacted, asked if I got them, said no. Thursday, I was contacted again. Still no jeans. Then, my "contact" said she'd find out what was going on. Voila! Friday afternoon, low and behold, there's a BIG box sitting on my doorstep.
I wasn't thinking about jeans when my husband opened the door and brought in the box. I wondered what the heck was in such a large carton. Out came the box cutter, off came the flaps, and not only was there a pair of jeans, whoa! there were FIVE pairs of jeans. All the same size, different lengths, different cuts.
Oh boy! This was just like Christmas!
So off to the bedroom I went to try them on.
And here we veer of topic for a sec . . .
My pal Nancy Martin, of the Lipstick Chronicles (whose new book, Our Lady of Immaculate Deception comes out tomorrow), vowed that TLC would never have diet stories. They're boring. People don't want to read about them. She's right . . . but here I go anyway. (Sorry, Nanc!)
After my Dad died (okay, and during the three months he was ill), I was pretty upset. Like a lot of upset people, I found comfort in food. Especially bread. Especially bread with butter. And now . . . while I can still get in my "from Penney's catalog" jeans, even they're getting a little snug. The truth is, I don't put on my jeans unless I'm leaving the house. I live in sweatpants. They are God's gift to women, and who looks a gift horse in the mouth?
Except, I have another gift horse, in the form of my tummy-tuck jeans. And the bitter fact is, only one of them I would dare wear, and even then, hubby said, "Looks like they were spray-painted on." They're tight, but oddly enough, they have a lot of give. There must be a good amount of spandex in them. But not enough that I'd feel comfortable for any length of time. I mean, I do have to breathe, right?
So I feel terrible. Here this BIG company went and gave me five pairs of beautiful jeans so I could try them out and sing their virtues and that means one thing: I've got to lose some weight. Hey, I need to. What if I win that Best Novel Agatha on May 1st. (I've been called a "Dark Horse" candidate. Everyone in the category has won at least one Agatha. I'm sure it would be as big a shock to them as it would be to me to win the award.) Just say I DID win . . . I'd feel really, REALLY FAT if I had to mount that stage at my present weight.
These really well-made Lee jeans are my incentive. Because each pair is cut different, there's one pair that I can't even get my left leg in. Those are my GOAL JEANS. (I've had goal jeans before, and while it took six months of Nutra-System, I did wear them for a short time. It felt great. (I felt hungry.))
So, while it's boring to hear about diets, I have two months to lose some weight. I'm going the Weight Watchers route. (I don't need to GO to WW, I just need to follow their plan...again. Hey, it works.) Periodically I'll let you know how I'm doing. Not by pounds lost, but by jeans donned.
Any tips on how to feel full without actually eating?
