Are you really a size 12/14/16/18?

This is a subject that really winds me up.
How can I go into one shop and fit comfortably into a pair of size 14 jeans and yet I go into the shop next door and I can’t even negotiate the waistband over my thighs?
What, did I put on half a stone walking from one shop to the next?
Did some fat genie manage to slap a couple of layers of blubber around my waistline when I wasn’t looking?

Why oh why haven’t High Street shops cottoned on to this before now: when a woman comes into your store and finds her usual size only fits a waif-like teen with no bust and minimal curves SHE WILL HATE YOUR STORE FOREVER!

It is a fact of life that women seem to be governed by their clothes size.
Celebrities seem to covet that holy grail of the American size zero and if some minor star is being interviewed in a magazine about their “amazing weight loss” the first thing you’re told is how they went from “a hefty size 14, down to a super slim 10″.
A hefty size 14? That is going to make everyone who is a 14 or above feel like the size of a cow.
And if you’re naturally a UK size 8 or below you’re labelled ‘annorexic’, ‘unwell’ or (this was once levelled at a perfectly healthy but very slim woman I did a feature on in my former life as a features editor) ‘a f***ing disgrace’.
Hmm, I’ve gone off the boil on a bit of a rant there.

So, imagine you’re in a shop looking for a pair of jeans and you’re usually a size 14.
You try their size 14s on and they’re so tight you’re having trouble doing them up. Then – oh no – you can’t actually get them off again.
After struggling, breaking a nail, going all red in the face and then catching your reflection in the mirror do you go back out into the store and get a size 16?
Do you buffalo – you stalk out of that store swearing you’ll never shop there again because there is “no bloody way I’m a size 16!”

Yes, I KNOW it’s ridiculous and you should just buy the size that fits and what does it matter if it’s a 6 or a 16? I know there will be men reading this and thinking, well I probably can’t print what they’re thinking.
But it’s Woman Nature. We know it’s ridiculous but psychologically we buy into the fact that we must fit a certain size and we WILL NOT venture out the other side of it.

All of which is my way of telling you that shopping for something new to wear of Christmas is depressing me. So I gave up.
So instead, I emptied the contents of my wardrobe onto my bed and sorted it out into 3 sections:
1. Stuff I can wear now
2. Stuff I can wear in the very near future
3. Stuff that when I can wear it I will post of picture of me on here in just my underwear.

NOTE: Those trousers in the picture were my pulling trousers. In my pre-married days, those trousers did me proud. I loved them so much I had two pairs! I wore them on my hen night (not as pulling trousers, obviously!) and now they just sit there in my wardrobe as a grim reminder of, well, of how hot I used to be!
I want to wear those trousers again!

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