Last week I took another huge load of clothes to my chosen charity.
It’s always a bittersweet moment for me because although it’s all for a good cause none of what I have left now represents ‘old money’. Around 65% of the items in those bags were purchases made within the last six months.
It’s getting to the point again where items (some of which I’d begun to really like wearing) are now just baggy on me and make me feel almost as self conscious as things that appear too tight.
A couple of weeks ago I made some ‘aspirational’ clothes purchases – but until now had only worn a jumper from my new collection, which are mostly hanging on the backs of chairs in my dining room.
Today I decided to wear my new jeans. They’re a Sainsburys TU clothing branded 44in waist stonewashed dark blue with a straight cut leg, and after losing a good chunk of weight over the last week they fit me perfectly!
It’s a nice feeling to go for a walk in something that you feel completely at home in. It makes me realise that I often end up going for items that are already pretty loose to hide whatever supposedly offensive body parts that I worry about residing underneath.
As I passed some workmen with a spring in my step I stopped to cross the road.
‘Are they new jeans mate?’ One of them said with an impassive look on his face.
Mildly surprised (and flattered) that the guy with a high visibility jacket seemed to be checking me out I smiled at him and said ‘Yes they are! New today actually!’ Thanks for noticing!’
‘You’ve got stickers on your arse.’ He said, pointing at my arse…
I reached behind me and felt around on my bum while he helpfully continued to indicate their approximate location with an extended index finger.
There they were.
I couldn’t help but laughing. In fact I couldn’t stop laughing. There’s nothing like a label on your posterior to bring you back down to earth!
I thanked the man, popped the stickers in a nearby bin and carried on walking.
There was a time (not so very long ago) that someone dressed very much like that man would have been hanging out of a passing van calling me a ‘fat ***t’ – but now they’re helpfully telling me about colour transfer warnings on my hind quarters!
I’m not sure why I’m still laughing while I type – as it’s really silly – but it makes me happy to feel normal.
I’m no longer apart from the world in other people’s eyes. I’m just another guy in cheap supermarket jeans with stickers on his arse and I love that.
I really really love that internet.