Baggy trousers...
So how did your first day of diet/exercise/starvation go? I would love to say that I hit Tuesday head on with grit and determination, but unfortunately at the first hurdle (white bloomer in the cupboard) I fell, taking a healthy serving of butter and strawberry jam down with me. Not to worry, I thought, I'll just do my day the wrong way round, and have soup for lunch and fresh air for my dinner. This intention also lasted till I left work yesterday lunchtime. I am going to blame the husband for what happened next...
He'd run out of his favourite marmalade at the weekend, so I thought it would be a great idea to stop at the supermarket on my way home and buy a jar for him. The marmalade cost £1.49. However, at the till, I had to hand over £6.00. This was because I had to walk past the 'freshly made' sandwiches on the way in, and it seemed like a really good idea to buy a Turkey and Cranberry Sauce sandwich (how long that's been sitting there is anyone's guess). So that went in my basket, along with a snack-pack of Bakewell Tarts and a bottle of orange juice. Sitting in my car surrounded by empty wrappers, I yet again rethought my food intake for the next 24 hours. Fresh air and black coffee till Thursday morning should just about do it I reckon.
I have started looking for some suitable attire for the Pilates class I have signed up for next week, as it would appear that jeans and a hoodie are not acceptable. Now this is a complete minefield, and I have ordered several pairs in the hope that I won't look like a hippo in a pair of Speedos. Looking at page after page of pictures of various size zero children wearing these yoga pants, I erred on the side of caution and avoided anything shiny, patterned, or only available in XXS/XS/S. I suppose what I really want is a pair of high waisted 1970's flares in spandex - that should do it.
And then there is the top half, which over Christmas has morphed into the bottom half leaving no defined waist. Crop tops are a definite no (with my stomach looking like it does, the top would be like a roller blind every time I bent over, with the decorative zip slapping me in the face. A comfortable smock (maternity section, here I come) would be lovely with a sensible vest underneath in case the wind reaches unprecedented levels around me causing the smock to lift.
Imagine any issue of Jackie magazine, and you'll get the look I'm after...
And this is what happens when you are less gym and more jam...
He'd run out of his favourite marmalade at the weekend, so I thought it would be a great idea to stop at the supermarket on my way home and buy a jar for him. The marmalade cost £1.49. However, at the till, I had to hand over £6.00. This was because I had to walk past the 'freshly made' sandwiches on the way in, and it seemed like a really good idea to buy a Turkey and Cranberry Sauce sandwich (how long that's been sitting there is anyone's guess). So that went in my basket, along with a snack-pack of Bakewell Tarts and a bottle of orange juice. Sitting in my car surrounded by empty wrappers, I yet again rethought my food intake for the next 24 hours. Fresh air and black coffee till Thursday morning should just about do it I reckon.
I have started looking for some suitable attire for the Pilates class I have signed up for next week, as it would appear that jeans and a hoodie are not acceptable. Now this is a complete minefield, and I have ordered several pairs in the hope that I won't look like a hippo in a pair of Speedos. Looking at page after page of pictures of various size zero children wearing these yoga pants, I erred on the side of caution and avoided anything shiny, patterned, or only available in XXS/XS/S. I suppose what I really want is a pair of high waisted 1970's flares in spandex - that should do it.
And then there is the top half, which over Christmas has morphed into the bottom half leaving no defined waist. Crop tops are a definite no (with my stomach looking like it does, the top would be like a roller blind every time I bent over, with the decorative zip slapping me in the face. A comfortable smock (maternity section, here I come) would be lovely with a sensible vest underneath in case the wind reaches unprecedented levels around me causing the smock to lift.
Imagine any issue of Jackie magazine, and you'll get the look I'm after...
And this is what happens when you are less gym and more jam...
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