I too am guilty. Let me explain. I am a runner. Always have been and most certainly always will be. Lord willing. I began my running career (Can I call it that? I'm not actually paid to run.) in the seventh grade. I thought for certain I would surely DIE while running a mile. My heart should not beat this fast and the pain I had in my side was most certainly a knife. I survived. I'm sure you are all breathing a sigh of relief. I continued to run and finally I was initiated into the club! What club you may ask? The ugly running shoe club. I knew I had crammed my feet into a size 8 at one point so surely I wear a size eight running shoe. Years of blisters and foot pain and three babies (your feet grow, uhhhh,your arches fall when you are pregnant) later I had worked myself up to buy a size 9 and that was with extreme begrudging. So, as I found myself staring Paul, at said local running store, square in the eye as he tried to hand me clown shoes I about lost it. What on earth do you mean I am a 9 1/2 WIDE?! I have not signed up for an event at the circus! There is no way I am wearing clown shoes to run. This is not happening. I explained to myself that it is better to have wide shoes than a wide hind end. Maybe.... So, during my evening run in my clown shoes I realized something. I loved having room! My toes could practically do jumping jacks! There was not pain shooting up the side of my foot and at one point I was cognizant of my breathing and not how to strike my foot to cause the least amount of pain.Okay, I know what your thinking. "Who cares, Kristen!!?? I don't run and even if I were to start I'm not sure I would care what size shoe I wore. " Noted. However, if you lived through the seventies you lied on your bed and zipped your bell-bottom jeans zipper up with a hanger. You may have even done a funny duck walk if you lived through the eighties trying to stretch out your non-stretch pants. Don't get me started on the nineties. Bike shorts were in and if you still have a pair and don't actually ride a bike I have the number to your local Salvation Army. Lets move on. Okay, I got side tracked. The nineties gets a pass. That is the only decade where we retaliated and wore clothes that were too big for us. Thus comes 2000! Good night! This decade gives rise to muffin tops and on people who clearly should not actually have muffin tops. Where are our friends when we are walking around in clothing that is clearly too tight. I can't see my butt and I think these pants may be too tight. One, because I can't breathe in or out and two because I can't bend my legs at my hips and knees. But sometimes I need a friend to take me aside and let me know that I shouldn't worry about if there are pantie lines on my jeans when people can actually see the print on my underpants though these too tight jeans. We all need a personal shopper or a good tell it to you straight friend. I'm telling you we could fix most of the problems in this world if we actually bought clothes in our size. We would have much more circulation working towards our brains. If you are hung up on a size you wore in high school and high five all of your buddies or best girl friends, let me enlighten you. They may not actually look like they did when you wore them in high school.
Embrace it! Wear your size. No matter what size that is. Wear it. Feel better. Live better and spend less time wanting to scream obscenities because your pants, shirt, shoes, bra, underpants, you name it, are too tight.
P.S. Those of you who wear clothing that is too big. You aren't getting a pass. You aren't fooling any one! Take off your husbands too big t-shirt and find a top that hugs a little closer to your body. I PROMISE you, you will automatically look like you lost 20 lbs. PROMISE! Pst. Gentlemen...your jeans are too short. Yes, they are. I don't care where they are actually supposed to hit. If most of American calls them high waters and you can walk through puddles in your Tevas without getting your pants wet, then they are too short.
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