Friday, February 22

"Why I'm No Longer Size 0....or 2...or 4...or..."

Miami Beach circa 2007

"Nigel: Not since two became new four and zero became the new two."

- Nigel, The Devil Wears Prada

You ever had denial so bad you might as well be diagnosed with Alzheimer's or Schizophrenia? I was at my new job the other day (stylist at LF) in which I had to try on an entire line of premium denim in hopes fit knowledge would lead to client satisfaction. "What sizes do you need Letitia?" "Oh, all 25's," I replied confidently as if I totally didn't remember devouring burgers, sundaes and pasta nonstop for the last two years would go straight to my ass. Needless to say, after the poor girl brought me eighteen pairs of jeans all in 25 (equivalent to a size 2 in my book) the scene went down something like this: "Oh Lisa, I didn't know these were skinny jeans, I'll need a 27 or 28." (see how the numbers jumped? what about a 26? clue that the denial process has sunken in) "Oh Lisa, I think colored washes changes the fit, can I get a bigger size?" "Sorry Lisa, do you happen to have a size 27 around just in case...well you thighs expand while I'm here in the dressing room?"

Yes, I know what you're thinking, but stop looking at me like that through your screen! I swear I have tried to stop pigging out. Gym memberships, South Beach Diet, walking up stairs once a week as oppose to the elevators. But I have a good excuse- pizza! Its an evil, evil drug that the FDA started long ago to maintain the production of plus size (over size 6 no?) garments in partnership with manufacturing associations so that they could charge more (larger sizes need more fabric) thus revitalizing the economy. Lame right? Oh well. Its just that pizza is a mouth-watering, tongue drooling, appetite-seizing food that should have its on calendar day. An Italian dish so flawless, hall of fames should be invented for it. Its a 'build-it-yourself delight. The buttery bakes bread, warm melted cheese, zesty tomato sauce and endless toppings.....what could be better? Fitting into my old jeans that's what! But who can deny the succulent and luscious temptation of pizza? Certainly not I.

And so I propose an open call of suggestions. By no means will I spend another $600 for David Barton or Crunch memberships, or think I'll actually get my butt out of bed to do yoga on my old dirty wood floors, or even jogging on the beach like the rest of those sugar daddies do every morning. There must be some way though, that I can go back to my naturally fit self without the forbidden sacrifice of foods du jour? Or is there?..........