How The F*ck Am I A Size 16?

I know that we all have inherent body image issues to some degree, not aided by the pressure put on women, in particular, to squeeze into Barbie- sized clothes deemed acceptable by society due to the influence of the media – even though the average size in Australia is now a size 16. 

But I can’t say I’ve ever really struggled with my weight – or perhaps I just didn’t care enough – until now. I’ve been a 12 for most of my life, bordering on 14 at certain times (of the month) and a nervous 10 just before my wedding day.

 

I stopped weighing myself after an over-enthusiastic two weeks in London last year, and although I consider myself a glass empty kind of gal, I am the type of woman that looks in the mirror each day and thinks I look okay. That is until  I go clothes shopping. In the past, I’ve put this anomaly in sizing down to a male-led conspiracy in the women’s fashion retail sector which means I’ve had to come to terms with keeping my eyes shut until I reach the plus size floor in Myer, but now I’m not so sure.

 

One day on my holiday,  a few cocktails in, as the tropical island spirit of ‘not worrying… about a thing’ finally took hold, I decided to go shopping for a new swimming cossie. I’ve written about this Armageddon for womankind before, and suffice it to say, my newfound holiday positivity did not help me at all to cope with the savagery of it, and twenty-five cossies later (just to make sure), I left the store with a size 16.

 

I’m still hoping that this setback isn’t karma related to all the photos I took of the old man in my bikini bottoms (here), but I’m beginning to think now, that simply maintaining my weight is almost as big an impossibility as Trump not being impeached. Don’t worry, I’m not beating myself up about it, looking at myself in disgust in the mirror or self-flagellating in front of photos of Elle McPherson each night – but I am frustrated.

 

‘It’s cortisol,’ a friend of mine explained. Cortisol is a steroid hormone that is released in response to stress, which in real terms means that it instructs any excess fat in your body to move to your tummy area when you’re already feeling like shit.

 

‘I thought you lost weight when you’re stressed?’ I argued, ‘and anyway, I’m not feeling stressed.’

 

And then she reminded me about my ongoing worries about Kurt and the latest rejections of my writing, my father coming over at Christmas and how awful I looked in NC’s graduation photos – she’s a good friend – and it kind of made sense. Even though I’m not as stressed as I was…apart from the usual symptoms of anxiety that make me catastrophize over every damn thing like the crick in my neck which I’m convinced is cancer.

 

So, what’s really going on in my body? I don’t want or need to be a size 12 – I think skinny, older women can appear gaunt and look older. But on the whole, I eat healthily. Admittedly, crisps do hold a dangerous fascination, particularly around 5 pm each evening when I start on the wine, although I do make allowances for my wine by cutting out most carbs, as well as committing to my 10,000 steps each day (to the fridge, for wine) and I have even been known to pick up the pace if it’s a particularly good year. And my FitBit assures me that what’s going in is roughly the same as what’s going out.

 

So, WTF’s going on?

Fashion For Middle Aged Women: I FINALLY Found MY Shop!

It took me a long time to find ‘my shop’ after I’d turned thirty, procreated and owned the muffin top to prove it.

 

 

You know what ‘your shop’ is, as a woman. It’s that shop that always designs the styles that work for your body and where they use the right fabric and a colour palette to compliment it.

 

It’s the shop you can usually rely on to find something you like even in those darkest moments of ‘not having anything to wear’.

 

Back in the UK, during the mumsy phase of my life when the kids were still small and I needed to be able to move quickly and conceal vomit, ‘my shop’ was Gap.

 

But it’s taken another decade for me to find ‘my shop’ in Australia. I had to adapt to the different style here. So used was I to dressing for warmth, polo necked jumpers and ski jackets were the most popular items in my wardrobe. And the style in Australia is less forgiving, because…well… you wear less. Country Road nearly gets there, as do Wish and Witchery, but I’ve wasted an inordinate amount of research time flitting from brand to brand, and never quite nailing down retail nirvana.

 

UNTIL NOW!

 

Check out SEED.

 

Seed has become my ‘safe zone’ in the mall. Not only does their range appease my OCD – because their designs focus on my safe colour palette of neutrals, black and white, (the only colours I really allow in my wardrobe without freaking the fuck out), but the clothes FEEL so good, the quality is dependable and the range extends from casual to formal, nightwear, shoes, babywear and accessories.

 

And they love faux animal print almost as much as I do. These are some funky shoes I bought to walk the Princess, (because wearing runners for anything other than exercise is just so downmarket….) and they’ve also got this gorgeous leopard print handbag in their range at the moment that I can’t wait to get my sweaty mitts on – although I may have to succumb to some sexual favours to find the money …

 

This is a top I bought before Christmas that is so versatile you can dress it up over a skirt for a more classic/corporate look, or down in the evening over skinnies or loose trousers. That loose fabric around the tummy is great for work after you’ve binged out on a massive lunch and paid the penalty of bloated baby belly.

 

 

Then there’s this little gem of a dress I bought to wear to a formal dinner in honour of my dad’s 70^th in London next month (yes, I did say London, bee-atches!). Note the ingenius way the fabric hangs around the waist, hiding a multitude of chocolate sins – although I’ve since come to the conclusion that it’s probably on the short side for the tickers of those wrinky-dinks in the RAC Club. Instead, I rocked it at New Year’s Eve.

 

And they even do polo necked sweaters…I lived in this baggy jumper last winter.

 

But I’m gushing now and I’m not even getting paid for this free marketing.

 

Although the other great thing about Seed’s range is that they design for all shapes and sizes – both loose and tighter styles – and (for me) the sizing is spot on. A size 12 is a 12 and a size 16 is a 16, so there’s none of that ‘losing the will to live’ in the changing room, like in those shops designed for stick insects where you can struggle to pull your normal size over your head.

Check it out!