A lost size?

I am one of those who can look at clothes and decide whether they would fit me, sizewise. Of course, I try them on to make sure. What I always prided myself with was I CAN buy clothes by just looking at them, if I didn't have the time to go into the trial room and preen into the mirrored walls.

Among the various shopping done on a recent trip, there features 3 pairs of jeans and a tee. I picked up the jeans without trying them on. The first one was spotted hanging at the door. Stylish, low waist, no waistband and blasted dark blue. I had to have them! A size smaller and they would be perfect, I thought. But they didn't have another size. I clung to them and bought them anyway, before hubby changed his mind.

The next shop, I saw some amazing denims again. Great looking. And this time, just my size! The girl at the shop, a slim pretty young thing looked at me and looked at the denims I was holding. A little hesitant... "this isn't your size."

"Of course it is! I have been wearing this size since I can remember! Quick! Quick! Pack them!" Kept an eye out for the hubby who had gone on ahead and had no idea of the extra damage to his pocket.

She held the waist of the jeans and wrapped it around my neck. (Incidently that's how they check the sizes and fittings in that part of the country!) Don't know what she deciphered but she packed them anyways. I grabbed the packet, left the money on her table and ran.

The tee was a gift. In Delhi, while waiting for us to show up at a mall, hubby's cousin picked up gifts for us. His, fortunately, was a perfume which didn't require any specific size checks. Mine was the tee. She held it out and asked if it was okay or we could get it exchanged. After the "You shouldn't have...!" I finally held it against myself, loved it and announced it was perfect.

Once home, the horror began.

The bigger jeans bought earlier is the only thing that fitted me comfortably. The other two pairs just about make it up to my waist. After that it's a struggle with the zip, the button and mere movement. I was horrified. How could this happen?

And the tee... with me in it could be displayed in a museum! Chest stretched till the threads could be counted. Arms once lifted, looked like a wrestler's when brought down with the tee giving magnificent shape to the muscles. What a nightmare!

Other than dearest hubby, everyone has been assuring me I look the same. Not an extra ounce visible. Hubby, of course assures me, they are all lying. I, out of habit, never listen to him. In my case, mirrors have also lied. Or maybe I have stood before the wrong mirrors. Those ones that make you look thinner and so much better than you are. My friend, A, has one like that. Does wonders to the self esteem, if you glance at it before moving out of the house. Anyway I digressed.

Now I have just accepted a fact that I have not been admitting to myself. Mentally I am my old size, physically I have moved on. I need to bid adieu to my old size in clothes and look forward to a brand new bigger size.

Alternatively, I could start with eating out of need, instead of greed. Alongwith dragging myself onto the forgotten road to the gym.