You know, the regular 'this doesn't fit' and 'I haven't worn this in
So that's what we (my husband and I) were doing. Innocently. And then it happened.
Or, rather, I happened upon a pair of jeans I hadn't worn since Hallowe'en 2010. I looked at them. They stared back. I said 'Hey, husband (well, I said his name, but whatever), look at these!' I had converted them into flared jeans with some Beatles' Yellow Submarine fabric. I thought, well, I'm never wearing these in public ever again, so may as well toss them!
Then I made my mistake. I looked at the size.
My thought processes went insane. I hadn't been a size 6 in six years!? What happened? I knew my weight had been steadily increasing since my employment at that local coffee shop, and marriage didn't help that. But ... I'm a size 12/14 now and 190lbs (sometimes 193 on bad days). What the heck happened?
Something broke and I said I wanted to fit into those jeans in February 2017. So I swore off pop.
The next week, after swearing off pop (and being quite successful at it), I asked a co-worker for some tips.
But I'm not looking at sizes the next time I clean up my closet.