Go Home ModCloth, You're Drunk

I love ModCloth. I have been shopping with them since 2012 when I bought my first purple shirt dress and I never looked back. For the most part.

At first I was not keen on ModCloth when I discovered the website through a "sponsored" search result for one thing or another. I loved the clothes, but the size range was not broad, and only stuck to mainly small through large. As I was closer to a 2x at the time, and ModCloth was not accommodating to the plus size gal, I lost interest. Maybe a year or so later I took a peek at the online retailer again and was very (and pleasantly) surprised to see they seriously upped their plus size game. I was also pleased to see the prices for the plus sized clothes were not any more expensive than the smaller sized clothes. Score!

This began my love affair with ModCloth. It was not without it's trials - but they do have fantastic customer service and a very nice return policy so any issues I had were pretty much taken care of. The biggest issue were (and still are) the prices. I garnered many a raised eyebrow when I shared with others where my clothes came from. It really wasn't that surprising, since the store carries some notoriously expensive brands like Bettie Page (now known as Tatyana), Hell Bunny, Collectif, and Emily and Fin among others. They also experimented with their own labels, with Myrtlewood and Bea and Dot, but eventually merging the two and re-branding to a simple namesake label "ModCloth". Even though they have an in house brand, the price tag is still high; a dress can typically run between $80.00 to $120.00. That is a bit eye watering for a dress with dinosaurs on it.

Along side the other labels and the house brands were some odd ball labels in some of those clothes. The aforementioned purple shirt dress? The label said "Island Wear". What? How? Not that I care about something as arbitrary as labels, but who the hell has ever heard of "Island Wear"? Not surprisingly, the dress like most other items from ModCloth are made in China. Most of the clothes are made in China, even the ones from the name sake label AND the "designer" labels. Another one in probably my favorite easy to wear blouse ever has "   " in it. Who? Exactly.

The answers didn't come until years later and I was about three to four sizes smaller and suddenly in need of a new quirky, cute, vintage influenced wardrobe. I decided I wanted a cute skirt or two to start the collection again. I didn't have the money to just replace my beloved garments all at once, and I also didn't want to willy-nilly dive into a spending spree, ending up with clothes I only kind of like. I took to Amazon, remembering a cute skirt with a Frida Kahlo theme print I saw a while ago and wanted to see if it was still there. I searched for "vintage skirt" and found what I was looking for. I also found other skirts that were just as cute - a springy sakura theme, a lemon print perfect for summer, a sweet floral for any time of the year. Then I saw the suggested items, dresses! The dresses took me down a huge rabbit hole of vintage inspired dresses and insanely quirky frocks. I did another search for a pussy bow blouse. Score. I started looking and looking and looking and suddenly my wishlist was filled with dresses, blouses and skirts.

What stopped me in my tracks was when I saw this dress:

Which is the same one as this dress on ModCloth:

Here is the kicker:
ModCloth: $59.00
Amazon: $10.00-$12.00 depending on size

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

I shouldn't have been so surprised, this is how companies work; buy cheap and mark up the price for a profit. But, almost by $50.00? For what is legit a very simple dress. In fact I HAD this dress:

It's made of a thin fabric and no pockets, with no discernibly higher quality than what you can get at Target. It is definitely not fancy dress and definitely not worth the 59 bucks. I paid it, because the print is really super cute and it is a very comfortable dress. I also thought it was a ModCloth exclusive. You never really know what is just for them, unless the item description spells it out. So, I shelled out the cash thinking the dress wasn't available anywhere else. I have not tried out the Amazon one, but I am willing to bet dollars to doughnuts, it is the same exact dress.

So, I did some more digging around and found these other items that are either very similar or exactly the same as a ModCloth item.

The Coach Tour dress
ModCloth:

Amazon:

Same exact dress, except on Amazon it's $24.99 to $26.99 depending on size.


The About The Artist dress
I don't think they carry this dress anymore, but it was super cute dress while they had it. The Amazon version isn't exact, it's missing the trim and has different colors but that is a-okay by me.
ModCloth:

Amazon:
This dress is suuuuper cute in green, FYI

The Charter School cardigan:
Not an exact match, but pretty close. Tons of colors, and made of the same materials - mostly viscose with a smattering of rayon.

ModCloth:

Amazon:

Soda Fountain Dress
Probably one of my favorite dresses, but not availible any longer, which is a shame. This is another one I felt was way over priced, as it ran for around $70.00. Whelp, it's on Amazon for 20.99
ModCloth:

Amazon:
Now, this one is made from a heavier fabric, which could be better for some people. I prefer the lighter cotton as it was just easy to wear and good for warmer weather.

Ahem, I am going to mention that first picture of the ModCloth version, isn't actually from ModCloth, since they don't carry the dress anymore. It is however from a website called Queen of Holloway which is OMGWTF amazing for well priced vintage style dresses. I cannot vouch for them as a company, but the prices are right and the selection is wide. PLUS they carry the original Soda Fountain dress, in most of the colors. They even call it the same thing too, haha!

Speaking of Queen of Holloway!
Bonus Round:
Tatyana's Sailor Dress:

Same dress from Queen of Holloway, but in red:

I think this one makes me the MOST irritated, because the Bettie Paige/Tatyana website will go on and on about their designs being unique. This dress retails for over $100.00, but it can be snapped up from Queen of Holloway for $55.98.


Here are some other ModCloth-esque things I found:
Midi Skirt with Pockets and tons of colors:

A blouse with lips all over it:

This very pretty fit-and-flare floral dress:

A darling button down with a sweet little bow:

One super cute London themed skirt with pockets:

I can't vouch for all these products, but I will make a blanket warning - most if not all of this stuff is from China. The sizing typically is, well, Chinese. I am a solid L/12 in most everything and everywhere. I bought this blouse, and this blouse and the aforementioned Frida Kahlo skirt. The first blouse I got in green in a XXL, and it fit perfect. The second one I got in cap sleeves in black, in a XXL. It was much too big, and I could have sized down but truthfully it looks fine, just roomy. I got the Frida skirt in a L. It's a snug fit, to say the least. It does flare out quite a bit at my hips, but I am okay with that.

What about the quality? I was impressed. No weird smells, no loose threads, and fabric and stitching on all the garments feel quite sturdy. I was super impressed that the skirt had TWO buttons at the zipper, so you can make your skirt a smidge bigger if you eat too many tacos. The shirts also came in a super nice heavy duty plastic bag, so that was cool. The stuff is from Amazon, so I wasn't too worried, plus with Prime free returns if it doesn't work out!

Now that I have found an alternative to ModCloth does that mean I won't be shopping there? Of course not. MC still has some very cute things that are pretty much proprietary to them and I love. I am just going to be more judicious on what I buy from there. For example, if ModCloth has a nice polka dot blouse, I might pause before buying and check if I can get something similar at Amazon or even Queen of Holloway. I am trying to keep the cost of the basics low, so I can splurge at ModCloth when I can and not feel guilty. For me, that is what is most important, especially while I am struggling to replace a ton of beloved clothing items. Of course, if I stick to this theory...only time will tell! Haha!


UPDATE:
I tried to make an order from the Queen of Halloway site and was met with a bit of roadblock. I couldn't seem to pay. They only accept PayPal and for some weird reason it looked like their PayPal link was dead or missing or something. Really super weird, which kind of put me off the website.

-GG

Saying goodbye to my meds

It is been officially over 24 hours since I have taken my last dose of depression medication.

I was taking a generic form of Pristiq for a little over two and a half years. I was happy with it, for the most part, with the exception of a few side effects. Even though I had good experiences with the drug, I wasn't sure what the future would be like for me. After some thought, I quickly realized that I didn't want to take this medication for the rest of my life. It was time for an exit strategy.

When I started SSRIs, it was for a very specific purpose - I was suffering from PMDD, which is Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, and THAT basically means wicked bad PMS. I never had bad cramps or heavy periods, but for two weeks every month I was stricken with terrible backaches and God awful mood swings. The pain in my back would start under my left shoulder blade and then become a diagonal line of misery culminating in my right lower back. It made life super fun. But even worse were my nearly manic mood swings. Laughing in the morning, crying jags at night, being bitchy and snappish to my husband. Life could be lively, to say the least.

So, I went to the doctor who put me on Prozac, for just the two weeks out of the months that were my hell weeks. But then, I noticed something, aside from emotional PMDD symptoms abating, my general mood was much better. I was happier, more steady. Less moody and less prone to the bouts of "the blues" I started to experience. Work and life in general started to be easier to handle when I was on the Prozac. I went back to the doctor to talk about this. Turns out, surprise! I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Which was really no surprise - this was back in 2016, which had turned out to be one of the worst years of my life. I was changed to Zoloft, and my god, life was amazing. Except for that pesky sexual side effect thing. Which really, really fucking sucked. I back in the doctor's office a few months later because I missed having some good sexy times. This is when I was put on the Pristiq.

And yeah, Pristiq was great. The sexual side effects were not as bad for me, but still somewhat present in a diminished sex drive. But I also encountered a weird one that made me ravenously hungry, which could have just been general depression, I don't know. My research tells me that SSRIs in general will make some individuals hungry, but for Pristiq, that isn't a reported side effect. In fact loss of appetite is a more typical response. Emotionally, I was more level...but less me. I grew disinterested in my creative hobbies, and became quite blase about my obsession with dressing in retro quirky clothes. But still, I was able to drive home from work without having to pull over on the side of Rt. 1 and cry my eyes out. Win.

However, as I said, it's been two years and it's time I feel I can go off the medication. Weight loss, a new job, and a healthier lifestyle put me into a much better perspective. The idea of trying to live life with out my chemical crutch stopped being terrifying, but more exciting. I went to my doctor and got the okay to discontinue the dosage. I also got fucking ambushed with blood work, and the idea of a needle going into my arm made me anxious. Despite the fact that not six days before I was down on South Street getting my nose pierced, and happily so. Whatever.

Even though I made some huge strides in the past year towards a healthier physical and mental well being, I was so scared to go off the meds. I just didn't feel brave enough before this. Even now, I am still worried about how I will feel down the road. But, I finally decided now is the time. I choose to be brave. I will be brave. I am not in this alone, and I am so thankful that I have a support system of the most amazing and wonderful people in my life. Only time will tell how I will be able to handle challenges that life throws at me.

As for right now, I am just trying to make it through the withdraw symptoms. I am feeling exceedingly, extremely, weeeeeird. I has a vague idea what the physical effects were going to be like, as I have missed a day every now and again in taking my meds, The physical side effects can only be described as an extremely odd pulsating feeling, coupled with some headachey jabs in what I am assuming is my frontal lobe. Some light sensitivity too. Emotionally I am giddy as hell, and just acting so fucking weird. I went to the grocery store and decided I needed to buy a can of french onion soup I had no need for. I have been super talkative, and super annoying to my poor husband who has to deal with my obnoxious, albeit funny behavior. Its like my quirky dial has been turned up to 11.

I am going to take everything one day at time. I am going to listen myself and my emotions and remember that just because I don't have my training wheels on doesn't mean I can't ride the bike called life. I am not going to be hard on myself, I am not going to allow myself to descend. I am going to ask for help. I am going to remind myself it is okay to take some time out for me. This will definitely be a challenge, and I am ready to fave it head on.

For the rest of the weekend I am indulging in some serious self care. Which is going to include a piece of chocolate cake with jimmies on it. <3

Cake is always the answer. And those are jimmies, not sprinkles

-GG

10 X 10 Wardrobe Challenge and What I Learned

So, what exactly is a 10 x 10 Wardrobe Challenge?

Very simply put, it is an exercise in reinventing your style, utilizing what you already have in closet. By whittling your clothing options down to 10 pieces to be combined into 10 outfits over the course of 10 days, it forces the participant to look at their clothes in a new light. The challenge is the brain child of Lee Vosburgh from Style Bee and swept through the blogosphere like wildfire. Three years later and it's still a very popular method for refining your style, putting some perk back into your wardrobe or just to alleviate style fatigue.

I had been struggling as of late on how to define my style, going back and forth between different looks and styles and not really knowing where I wanted to land. I was buying up a good deal of clothing only to be discarded or stored away in a few months. In this confusion, I decided that I needed more structure and direction when it came to my clothing. I decided to set a few goals for my wardrobe:

• Pare down the volume of clothing
• Create one basic capsule, and smaller seasonal capsules
• Shop smarter, less impulse
• Define my style

In making some goals, I decided to try out the 10 X 10 wardrobe challenge, giving a minimalist approach a shot. This seemed like a really good way to test out if I could function with a small pool of clothing and be happy. Plus, it would continue on my shopping hiatus that I have been on. It would also help me figure out different ideas and looks with my already existing clothes.


I pulled my 10 pieces from my closet and arranged them into 10 outfits, taking care to remember if I had any special events or commitments that would require certain clothing items. I choose a black tank dress, a button down chambray shirt, a black tee, a striped tee, black jeans, blue jeans, a gray long cardigan and a mustard yellow kimono sweater. My last two pieces are shoes, a pair of sneakers and a pair of taupe perforated loafers.


How did I do? I started on a Sunday, with the black dress and the chambray shirt. I liked the outfit, but I thought it would look better with a pair of flip flops that I love. So there was that. The next day I realized the chambray shirt was developing three holes - one at the elbow and two at the shirt tails. Only after two wears, I might add. So, I pulled out another shirt to replace the chambray shirt. Four days into it I stopped. I was bored and generally not feeling it. Plus I was pretty certain my co-workers were noticing that I was wearing the same clothes.

Maybe I didn't approach the challenge right, or maybe I am just not that creative in styling. For the past month, I have Pinned, read, collected, and posted through various outlets in a desperate search for style. Maybe I just have wardrobe fatigue, since this was my main focus for quite some time. I realized I was unhappy with the looks I was developing. I felt like I wanted to go minimalist, with clean lines and simple colors. It seemed adult and classy, but also laid back. I wanted to be like my favorite minimalist bloggers and emulate their style. I was unhappy when I realized how difficult that is and I wasn't hitting the mark. And when I did hit the mark, and managed to get a look together that closely emulated what they were wearing...I wasn't as happy as I thought I was going to be.

In my longing to pin down a style, I forgot myself. When I would go looking for clothes and see something that would make my heart leap, I would dismiss it thinking that it didn't fit the "look". So I got disappointed. I find myself starting to miss patterns, and colors and the vintage style dresses I used to wear before I lost weight. I so loved to express myself and personality through clothing and I stuffed that love into the back of the closet. I think with getting older, I feel I can't carry it off anymore, and I am afraid what people will think about me. In thinking that because my body changed, I now had to change everything else about me too.

I was putting pressure on myself and trying to push myself into a little box of what I felt was the proper way to dress. I wasn't following my own song, my own path. I have a bright, quirky personality, why can't I show that through bright quirky clothes? Because I am "too old"? Fuck. That. I am not a style blogger, nor will I be or ever be. And I don't want to. Wearing a sweater with cacti on it makes me happy. Having a dress covered in books makes me happy. I think it's time I dress to make me happy, not to fit into a mold of what I see or what I think I should do. Style inspiration is all well and good, but sometimes you have to sit back and really think about what it is you like.

I still want to pare down the size of my wardrobe, and I have realized there is a place for neutrals. But that place is right next to a blouse with cats all over it. Some days, if I feel like wearing a plain blouse ad jeans, I can do that. And some days I might feel like looking like a three ring circus. That's awesome. I have to create a style and wardrobe that will allow me to do that. I have to be conscious of how much I am shopping and if the item is something I really like. Learning to shop smarter is definitely something I learned. The biggest take away  here is that I can still be me, no matter how thin or old I get. Self expression through fashion has no age limit.

-GG

My Life In Scales: Part 5, Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

Spoiler alert.

I lost weight. Not just weight, but like, a bunch of weight.


Full disclosure here; this was more along the lines of a "lol, lets see if I can actually, really do this" than a full commitment. Apparently, I made this into a commitment somewhere down the line. I can't say when, or how. But, it just clicked with me. The farther I went, the more determined I got, and the more determined I was I pushed harder. I am NOT going to say I had slips. I don't believe in saying that because I am fucking human being and because of that I am a pleasure seeking entity. I had days where I ate, and ate. Like my birthday, where I made Ed take me roller skating and then he took me out for Mexican food, and I had a Margarita the size of my head and some delicious tacos AND nachos.

Some days were more of a struggle. For some obnoxious reason, my co-workers decided that pot lucks were going to be the thing, and suddenly we were having one about every two weeks. As much as I loved the people I work with, this was NOT COOL. However, my amazing manager Peggy was super thoughtful and got me fruit for my birthday and a ginormous butterfly balloon that I got to tie to my chair and be obnoxious with. Seriously, I shoved it into everyone's face I could and was like "YES! YES! It was the day of my birth, you may all worship me and comment on how I do not look like my 33 years of age." I really wish I was joking.

Anyway, weight loss. There were some big changes I made. For starters, I cut out full calorie soda, leaving diet for those days I was going to the movies or getting a salad at Saladworks. Soda was probably the worst thing I was doing to myself. I remember once sitting on my couch, with no less than four or five ginger ale cans on the table in front of me and still feeling so dehydrated after drinking so much, it seemed so impossible. Not going to lie, it was hard since it all was all I drank and I loved soda.

Second thing I did was stop eating junk. I didn't have so much of a problem with leaving the potato chips and fast food, for me that was easy. What was really, super hard was stopping the sweets. Cake, ice cream, ice cream cake, candy, brownies, cookies - anything sweet it was going into my belly. I developed an iron will power and a hard mask of austerity while I cried on the inside because I wanted cake, dammit. I will not say I gave up sweet stuff - just made some smarter replacements, such as frozen yogurt for ice cream (just as good, really). I also swapped out milk chocolate for luscious squares of Italian dark chocolate. I now prefer the dark chocolate to milk chocolate. Go figure.

My third change was getting into the gym, and wow was that hard. I went to Lane Bryant and tried on various leggings and sports bras, vowing to never shop there again (joke's on me, even though I am too small to wear the clothes, I still fit into their bras). I started out slow, only doing 15 minutes of cardio at a time, and gradually increasing. I then started to include weights and doing a circuit of exercises around the facility. Adding in some yoga gave me a nice breath of fresh air once in a while, and also helped me get better in tune with a body that was suddenly changing. I took more walks along the canal and river with Ed, I took the stairs when I could, and I didn't care so much about parking in the boonies when I went to Target.

Finally, I started to count my calories and really, truly monitored how much food I was putting in my mouth. This. Was. Not. Easy. Granted, going back to MyFitnessPal helped, as the database is vast and the options are plenty. The app is flexible, so if you can't find something, you always create it or input your own recipe. But, still, it was extremely frustrating to be confined to only 1200 calories per day when you love to mainly eat bread and sugar. What this does is put into perspective how much we really actually need to eat. In the beginning I felt like I was not getting enough to eat, feeling some mild crankiness, irritability and general hangriness. As time progressed, and I grew used to consuming less calories, that feeling went away. Sometimes I would feel hungry right after eating dinner, or my stomach would feel empty and I would immediately think I needed to eat. I learned to chill out, and actually think about if I seriously needed to eat or not. I give it about a half hour and a drink of water and see how I feel. If I am still feeling the same way I eat a small snack of almonds or carrots or an apple, and then go about my day.

That is pretty much it. Easy and hard, all at the same time.

I ended up halting my progress in October 2017 after 60lbs lost, just 20lbs shy of my ultimate goal. I am okay with this, honestly. I grew frustrated when I would go over my calorie count because I had a handful of almonds and some grapes as a snack. Like I said, calorie counting is difficult. I will have to do it my entire life, and while I am not thrilled with it, the method keeps me honest and on track. I also stopped because I wanted to breathe a bit, and indulge while maintaining my weight. I just wanted to eat at a restaurant and indulge for a minute in something totally off-plan and not feel guilty. I wanted to eat a piece of cake, or some ice cream and not worry about how much of my progress it was going to kill. It does grow exhausting constantly having to tabulate what you consume in a day.

When I looked into the mirror towards the end of my journey, I was finally pleased with what I saw. I learned to love my body for what it is. Which is not to say that I loved my body more because it was smaller, I loved it because I was finally taking care of it. By showing my physical self love, I grew to love it. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, if I was going to come out of this looking like a hard body athlete or a slim model. My reality isn't even in between that. I went from a size 18/20 to a solid size 12. My body is still fairly shaped the same, as my stomach still has an annoying round belly shape to it, and there is jiggle. Everywhere. But, my legs have gotten ridiculously strong, and my arms have muscle tone and definition. And I even have two little indentations on the aforementioned treacherous belly to indicate I do, in fact, have abdominal muscles.

I have more work to do, and yes, I still want to loose my last 20lbs - now closer to 25lbs as my liberation from the shackles of calorie counting suddenly became pure wanton vandalism to a carefully crafted healthyish diet. Oh yes. I ate candy, and frozen yogurt. I had burgers, and bigger dinners. One memorable night I went out with my bestie and we ordered some small artisan pizzas to share while we laughed our asses off over a glass of wine. Christmas was fun, as I felt pretty to indulge in some cookies and all the best things the holidays had to offer including booze.

I put an end to that, once the indulgences went from being an unrestricted cheat day, to every day. I knew I was going back to habits I previously had. This was the biggest thing I learned - when to stop the indulging, how to comfort myself without food, and how to maintain balance. I also learned to love a simple, healthy diet to look forward to delicious meals of lean protein and lots of veggies. I also learned to fix hunger with real food and not junk food. I also learned that I would much rather sit and indulge my sweet tooth when I was relaxing or being social, than sitting alone on my computer shoveling handfuls of strawberry Sour Patch kids into my craw. But, I am so totally not going to say I don't enjoy junk food. Last month I spend a couple of Saturday nights snuggled up to a bottle of rose, a plate of chocolate cake and David Tennant while binge watching Broadchurch.

At this point, I have gone through a massive change in lifestyle. I have totally changed my eating habits, breaking a lifetime of bad habits instilled in me since I was a child. My exercise routine has gone from nonexistent to robust, with gym visitis 3-4 times a week and yoga at least once a week. My outlook on health in general has improved, from once being something I was ambivalent about to now a passion to live a longer healthier life. Losing weight was not about looking better, it was about learning how to live healthy, or at the least - healthyish. I think I am well on the way to achieving that goal. Living a "healthyish" lifestyle is now one of the most important facets of my life and has truly become something I enjoy doing and will continue to do for a very long time.

But, having to buy a whole new wardrobe with more options in where to procure that wardrobe is not a terrible thing either. Just sayin'.


-GG

My Life In Scales: Part 4, Rock bottom is not a comfortable place to be.

2016 was a really shitty year.

I think we can all agree to that. I know I was not the only one who cried their eyes out on the morning of November 9th.

Social and political negativity aside, last year was a terrible year for me personally. Through out this piece I have been writing, I have been making correlations between my work and my weight. This was mostly to illustrate how sedentary I really was, not to say that I was fat because because of what I do for a living. I also did this because I spend 8+ hours a day at work, and most of my time is taken up with work, so yes - I feel that if I am doing a job that does not require me to move around, it will start to take an effect on my body. Since starting work at the bank, my lifestyle did not change much, and I was able to stay at a steady weight after gaining initially.

After years of being happily put in one place, and in one position I decided it was time for me to move on up. I literally have no idea what I was thinking to be honest. I felt ready, but intellectually I wasn't sure if I was ready to take the next career step into an Assistant Manager position. I did it anyway, thinking of an old quote I saw on someone's Facebook with like, a thousand pixels - don't regret the things you did, regret the things you didn't do. I didn't want to forever be wondering "should I have?".

I still had reservations. The commute would be 45 minutes. There was no manager currently at the branch, so it would be just me running the show until they hired someone. The staff was reportedly a notoriously difficult staff to work with. The branch was also smack dab in the middle of an immigrant community, an extremely insular and tight-knit community. I have zero language skills to speak of, so I know I would have to work through translators to help with some of the customers. Not only that, but the customers were also described as "rough" and could be very demanding. To put the cherry on top of this shit sundae, the branch was also in operational shambles - things were not getting done, and there had been quite a few incidences that made my eyebrows go up. I should also mention here that I never found any of this out until after I accepted the position and was settled in.

Thus started one of the worst years of my life. Being an exempt employee, I ended up having to work 50 hours a week, no overtime. I thought this would change when we got a branch manager, but it did not. She expected me to be there, while she swanned in and out as she pleased, under the guise of "appointments". There were nights when I had to be there until 9:00pm, because of some disaster or another. Most other days I didn't get home until around 7pm or 8pm. I worked every Saturday, with no other days off except for Sundays. All the operational work was put on to me, all the conference calls and other managerial duties were also placed on me. I truly did end up with a bad manager, and upper management were deaf to my complaints. She was needlessly cruel to me, nitpicking on things I could not possibly manage to do, and when I asked for help, she never gave it. She made me sign "coaching documents" that I did not feel comfortable signing as these documents never told my side of the story - only that in her view I was not doing my job. I felt she was terribly abusive and manipulative, because she could also be so very sweet - she loved to be affectionate, and she would smile at you and say your hair looked good. In the next moment she would be tearing you down.

All of this took a harsh toll on my mental health. The bad situation coupled with the hopelessness of first not having my concerns heard and the second of not being able to find a way out spun me into a depression. I stopped doing things I loved to do, I was moody and tired all the time. I snapped at my husband, and took my bad days out on him. I would burst out into tears randomly, and when I wasn't doing that, I started to have anxiety attacks. My heart would start to pound and my throat would feel like it was closing up and I couldn't breathe. I ended up going on anti-depressants, which really helped control most of what I was experiencing but it was not a solution.

Of course, along with depression, I gained weight. My eating habits were really god-awful. And because I was feeling so low about myself I could not care less about what was going into my mouth. Since my time outside of work was so limited, I was resorting to grab-and-go meals most of the time. And when I did cook, comfort food was the rule of the day - I felt I needed it to feel better. I won't lie and say that tucking into a pile of creamy diced potatoes au gratin didn't feel good, satisfying and helped lift my spirits. Because it did, but only for a short period of time and this behavior became quite constant. My snacking got out of hand too, as bags of gummy worms became my favorite thing to eat ever, no shame. My morning routine changed, gone were the days of being able to cook up an egg with some toast and fruit - I now resorted to stopping at Dunkin Donuts for a rather large sweet iced tea, a bagel with butter and a chocolate frosted doughnut. It was a quick and easy breakfast I could eat while in the car. I was packing more calories into a body that was already large to begin with, and I knew it.

I continued on like this for some months,feeling like I was fending off the dragon of my depression with a toothpick. During this time, my husband was a goddamn hero. He did so much to help make me feel better, to help accommodate my shit schedule, and just make sure he was there for me. The support he gave me was incredible, a real testament to how how far love can go. At times I felt like I was hanging on a precipice of  despair as work nearly took over my life. Ed was what kept me from falling completely over. I will forever love him for that, for the extreme kindness, and tender affection he gave me when I was just at my most low. He also never once mentioned how much I was eating, or that my clothes were getting larger, and my old clothes would stop fitting. He just kept on loving me.

In September of 2016 I couldn't hold out any longer. My one champion in my office had made her decision to escape, and I knew I had to do the same. I knew there was a Lead Teller position at a branch close to my home, and I knew I had to take it if I was going to keep my employment with the bank. I knew the wicked witch was gunning for me, and I was not going to let a 7 year career get destroyed by a bitchy interloper. I called the manager of the branch and told her my plans, she let out an audible gasp and said "I think I just won the lottery!". I smiled, for the first time in a long time at work, and I even shed a few tears. I knew I was making the right choice. As it turns out, I really did. I got out of a bad situation, and I landed in a much happier one. I loved my new job, my new branch and my new staff. It was a different job, but not completely unfamiliar. And slowly, but surely, I felt like I was coming back to life.

 There was one interesting facet to all this. Even though I was so much happier, and feeling better my eating and activity level literally did not change. I ate to celebrate life, and not to try and heal wounds. My kids, (which is what my assistant and I called my staff of mainly 20 and 21 year olds) were quite an active bunch. They went to the gym and were constantly watching what they ate. Good kids, really. I used to laugh, and make stupid jokes about how I like tacos and wine more than the gym. And they laughed along with me. And while I laughed, I still had this stupid niggling sensation that I was just ignoring the problem, once again.

The end of that year was a good one. Christmas was fun, and New Years was spent quietly with my husband, just the two of us and a pot of homemade fondue. And it was fucking delicious. There was also a lot of alcohol consumed between the two of us. This is also not even including the indulgences of the holiday season. Cookies, cake, roast beef, mashed potatoes, buffalo chicken egg rolls, and so much wine. So. Much. Wine. So much drunk. But, gosh it was fun. And when it was finally all over and January 1st finally dawned, I did something I had never done before.

I made a New Years Resolution.

I was going to finally, really truly lose weight.



-GG

My Life in Scales: Part 3, The Reckoning.

After about a year of working at my new branch, I had to go to the doctor's.

And now we come full circle.

There was nothing wrong with me, just a typical OB-GYN appointment to get the lady parts checked out. But of course, I was going to have to hop on that damn scale. This time, I knew better. I took off my coat, my purse and even slipped out of my shoes and cardigan. I dumped everything on the nearby phlebotomy chair much to the chagrin of the nurse. I was not taking any chances this time and I was going to make sure my weight was as accurate as possible. I stepped on the scale. She adjusted one little gizmo. Then another. Then she started inching that little one, further and further to the right. A little more. And there. 220. I think my face crumpled, because the nurse looked very sympathetic. I was actually shocked I weighed so much, I always assumed I was around 200. Turns out I was 20 whole lbs over what I had initially thought. I hate that scale.

I really shouldn't have been surprised though. I worked a job at a desk, and I didn't really watch what I ate. I never got any exercise, aside from the odd walk around the mall or neighborhood. I knew I was steadily getting bigger, as my pants and dresses stopped fitting me as well, or items that used to be a bit too baggy were now fitting properly. Like most Americans, I never really thought that my diet and lack of exercise would have any kind of consequences. I decided that I was okay with my weight. I felt beautiful, curvaceous and I was finally finding great clothes in styles that fit my body and personality. What did I have to change? Still though, I had a niggling sensation in the back of my mind that this is not okay.

There was another point after that moment that made me think a bit. I was sitting at my desk, working on something when I heard an audible "pop!" from the region of my left boob. And suddenly lefty started to sag just a tiny bit. My damn underwire broke. I thought I was going to cry. That was my best bra. It lifted and shaped my large and unwieldy chest so I looked like a bombshell. I tried to save it, but once the underwire was gone, I knew I had to let go. I went to Lane Bryant and picked up some new bras. I was pleased to see they had new colors and styles, so I happily skipped back to the dressing room with an armload of underwear.

Cue the meltdown. My old faithful was an old design that they nixed at the end of that last year. Apparently some women who don't know how bras are supposed to fit complained that actual support was uncomfortable so Lame Bryant changed it. And now I looked saggy and fat in the new style of bras. I was devastated, as I looked upon my gut sticking out even more started to cry. Those bras made me look so fat. I decided that I needed to get some real bra advice, so I logged on to Reddit when I got home and introduced myself to the A Bra That Fits community. With recommendations and brand names under my belt, I started a frenzy of buying and returning bras, trying to find that perfect fit. Each one I tried felt nothing like my beautiful oldie-but-goodie, and all I saw in the mirror was my stomach looking distended.

At this point, I knew I had to face the facts, and look at the truth. The bras were not making me look fat, I was just fat. Which, necessarily wasn't a terribly bad thing. Dramatics in fitting rooms aside, I really did like what I saw in the mirror. I loved my style, I loved my curves, and I felt adorable. And yet, when my clothes came off, I was stunned by how large my waist had grown. At this point, looking back in hindsight, I don't know if I even really liked what I saw. I think that instead of truly accepting myself for who I was, I was settling. Moreover, I was worried about my health. I knew very well that I was on the road to obesity. I decided I needed to do something before all of this got out of hand.

The real question was "what to do?" I absolutely hated exercise in any form. Walking too much made my back and feet hurt. And since I was a smoker, cardio was out as it made me want to die. I decided to change my diet and start practicing yoga. I downloaded MyFitnessPal, a free calorie and exercise tracker that expects you to be honest about what you eat (oh, god). Yoga was fun, and I was starting to see a strength and flexibility in my body I had never seen before. I was starting to feel pretty good, and I was seeing some results. I lost about 12 pounds...and then I quit. I am not entirely sure why, I think I just got tired of restrictions, and I think I tried to go too hard too fast. I tried to start eating all organic, and basically making my meals all lean protein and veggies.

It wasn't a sustainable diet. I went from zero-to-sixty over night and I couldn't keep it up. I even lost my taste for yoga, as getting to the classes, settling in and getting home from the classes became a two hour ordeal. And that was when I just decided to give up. I leaned back and while not exactly accepting my fatness, I just existed with it. I figured if I was was going to be "this way" I would try to be more positive about it. I started to read blogs that espoused body positivity and plus size fashion. I tried really hard to accept myself as I was, but I still had trouble really loving my body. I hated the aches and pains, the weird tightness in my chest when I would climb stairs. My knees would hurt. If I was out and about for too long my lower back would scream by the end of the day. My skin was constantly breaking out, no matter how many different gels, creams and lotions I used. Even my hair was miserable, limp and oily by the end of the day. Still I carried on like this for five years. I ate and drank whatever I wanted, consequences be damned.

Little did I know, things were about to get much, much worse.

To be concluded...

-GG

My Life in Scales: Part 2, When Life Hits You Like a Semi Truck.

When I finished college, I felt like the entire world was open to me. I had a degree, and therefore I knew I could get a good job and start a career. I would then be able to pay off my student debt, buy a house, and live my life to the fullest. The universe, however, had other plans. As the new year of 2008 dawned, and I set out on my post undergrad life, the housing market decided to collapse. My hopes of finding a good paying job were completely dashed as the country was sent into one of the worst economic crises since the Great Depression. Thankfully, I was able to snag a full time position at the local department store I had worked at during the Christmas season. Instead of wrapping gifts for harried holiday shoppers in the gift wrap department, I was now shilling sheet sets and electric blankets to old ladies in domestics.

While bad for my personal economic future, this was a decent turn in regards to my activity level. I was able to walk around at work, lifting things, bending and stretching. One day, I did get curious about exactly how much I weighed. We had scales over in the bathroom section for sale, and sometimes they ended up getting opened. We had one digital scale that we didn't even sell any more that had no package and my co-workers were constantly checking their weight on it (remember, this was a small local department store, we had few customers and much time on our hands). I decided to give it a go; I hadn't been weighed in nearly three years since my bout with mono in 2005. I slipped away from my area and popped on to the scale. 210. Wow. I mean, I wasn't entirely shocked but I was ashamed of myself. 210 is not a healthy weight for my height and I knew it. I decided that I should try to lose 20lbs. That should be easy, right?

I knew my activity level at work was helping me, so I decided to tackle the food issue. I thought that if I just cut the fast food and have some salads and Lean Cuisines for lunch I would be set. I think this lasted less than a week as I went back to my typical diet of fast food and potato chips. Not even saying that particular plan was even a good one. It had good intentions, but it truly wasn't something that would launch me into a complete and much needed lifestyle change. That moment though was important. For the first time as an adult I fully recognized that I needed to take control of my weight. I did make a conscious decision to try and lose weight because I knew I was fat.

Later on that year, life took another interesting turn. I had been applying at various companies to land a full time position and start my career  but with no offers or even interviews. In exasperation I eventually applied to a bank as a teller. It was more money, and a decent place to be until I could maybe go back to school or find something better. I had interviewed twice, and while I did well I was never offered anything. They said they would keep me in mind. Well, by the end of the summer, I suddenly had a clock ticking over my head. That family run department store I was working in was going into Chapter 11, and my store was on the chopping block. If I didn't find anything else, by the end of that September I would be out of a job.

After the store closed, I was unemployed for a whole of two and a half weeks. I was still getting paid from the store because of some snafu the company caused and the bankruptcy courts ordered them to pay us wages through the middle of October (It was a pretty awesome two weeks, TBH). I did manage to get a position at good ole JCPenney's, which really sucked. But still, I had a job that kept me active. Of course, at that point I didn't really care what the work entailed, let it be active or not, I just really needed a job. I was working there for a about a month and a half, when I finally got the phone call I had been waiting nearly a year for. The bank I had interviewed with all that time ago finally wanted me.

And this is where all this background story leads to. With taking a job with the bank, I launched myself into a very different kind of work than what I had been doing up until this point. The customer service end of it was very much the same. What was different and completely blew me away was that as a bank teller I was allowed to sit down. This was huge for me, as previously I had spent my working days on my feet in various types of retail jobs with only 30 mins to sit down on break. While I gloried in not having an aching back and feet at the end of the day, this proved to be ultimately disastrous for my waistline.  

Starting in  my new career in banking, I was much more focused on the job itself, and I never really thought about how physical the job was itself. I was a teller which is the most physical job in a branch as there is more standing, lifting and bending. But, the activity level was nowhere near where my retail jobs were at. In conjunction with this, my diet did not get any better. I was still drinking soda by the gallon, indulging in sweets and fast food. Not surprisingly, I gained weight. I don't know exactly how much I weighed at that particular point in time, but I knew I was gaining weight because my clothes stopped fitting me.

Luckily, this was around the time the whole concept of plus-size became a more mainstream option. Before, clothes in larger sizes were always relegated to the back of stores, in some shadowy corner in an apparent attempt to pretend plus sizes didn't even exist. Now, stores like Torrid and Lane Bryant were available to me, and Target was getting a better plus size collection. But still, I could also shop in the "straight sizes". I had started to slowly accept my body more, as society started to accept the fact that bigger bodies do, in fact, exist. I stopped feeling so much shame over my fat rolls, I felt like I could actually finally feel pretty and sexy. One huge factor in leading me to this was my then boyfriend, now husband, Ed. He always (and still does) would tell me how gorgeous and sexy I am. He loved every wobbly inch of me, and I felt that if HE can find me desirable, and love my body, well so can I!

 I began to eschew any indication of going on a diet. I decided that instead of trying to eat super healthy, I would make my meals more well rounded, with meats, veggies and some kind of grain. Here and there we would go out to eat or grab some fast food, but it wasn't always. I wanted to put a better effort into making our meals, so with some help from my mom I taught myself how to cook. I took to it like a fish takes to water and became a rather competent chef, if I do say so myself. With this new culinary world open to me, so did a new world of different kinds of food. I liked to experiment with different kinds of cuisines, trying out things that were easy and hard. We ended up eating rather well for a long period of time. Ed actually started to fill out more - he was always a very lean guy, almost to the point of too skinny.

As my cooking skills blossomed, so did my career in banking. I moved from being a teller to what we call switcher, meaning I would now in addition to teller duties, I would have the same duties as a banker would too. After a year of that, I took the next step up into being a full fledged banker, and moving to a new branch as well. This was a great move for me, as I ended up working three minutes from home (I know, right?) and with an amazing manager. I very much enjoyed the work, even though it came with a whole new set of stresses and concerns. Never-the-less, I was still happy where I was at. The problem was, I got very comfortable in my lifestyle that came along with this new position. Not surprisingly, my weight started to creep, and creep, and creep upwards. And yet, I still blithely continued on.

To Be Continued......
(okay, so I am trying for a little dramatic effect here, so sue me.) 



-GG