Plateaus and Muffin-tops

Many thanks to all of you for your great suggestions. The hunger disappeared after a few days and I am close to my most recent all-time low weight so maybe I'll be pushing through it soon.

Over the weekend I took advantage of the big sales at some clothing places. The good news is that I didn't have to shop in the Women's section. The bad news is that the Misses department is like the Miami airport the day before a hurricane hits. Man, talk about the great unwashed. It almost made me want to browse in Women's again.

It was a coolish morning - not cold - and so the a/c was automatically shut off; as was every other ventilating piece of equipment in the mall. The lines to check out were long and slow and as luck would have it, I got behind the woman who was buying 12 items from the $5.99 clearance rack and contesting every f-ing price that rang up when scanned. The incredibly bad jazz for background "music" was really the icing on this crumbcake.

I also noticed a disturbing new trend in fashion: foundations/support built right into the dress. Rather than offer the plus size customer any sizes beyond 14 (and this was a big retailer and there was not ONE dress in the entire store at a size 16 or beyond. Keeping us shackled to those fugly pantsuits I wouldn't dress my dog in), their idiotic option was a petroleum-based garment with that super tight binding spandex that was supposed to smoothe those size 16 and ups of us right down into a 14. Oh yes, what a concept. Talk about muffin-top in the extreme. So much of my fluff was pushed so far down it looked like I was wearing a petticoat. But the real fun started when I tried to take this monstrosity off. Of course, with the lack of proper ventilation, this body stocking had already adherred itself to my ample form. I tried pulling and pushing and considered dialing 911 at one point. This thing needed its own escape pod. I eventually outsmarted the so-called garment with my body parts intact and airway once again unobstructed but my dignity the consistency of swiss cheese.

I bought a few decent things in a 16, which was pretty good for me. But the Wrath of Gigi needed to leave her mark before she left (I so apologize for talking about myself in the third person but I love the company). So I took every size 14 and beyond from the back of the rack or bottom of the shelf and put them in front or on top. Let all those skinny little gym bunnies do some bending and pushing for a change. Let the retailer give the impression that it actually embraces and respects the larger shopper. A girl can dream, can't she?