Long Bones

So yesterday I was hanging out with my buddies at Kromey and Nini’s place playing the New Super Mario Bros. on the wii when I looked down and my boob was hanging out. I didn’t panic, I adjusted my shirt and since everyone else was looking at the TV I don’t think they noticed – if they did, they were cool and didn’t say anything. I had to readjust several times that night but as Ecker is Ecker and never notices anything and Flickerbrain was sitting at a really bad angle to see anything it just leaves Kromey of the guys (Nini and Shondar can see bra – I dont’ care) who may have been exposed to my remarkably sedate lingerie.

So I went home and in a fit of pique posted of facebook that I’m not allowed to wear that shirt in public again. I’m serious too – it’s going straight into the consignment store/donation bag. I mean, my boobs are cute but my guy friends don’t have to see them. Not to mention the disaster it would be if they had crept out at work! 

On facebook the congratulations started rolling in. It’s cool – I’m really happy that everyone is so happy for me and inspired by me. It’s really cool – a couple days ago I got an email out of the blue from an old friend Yenta Jon saying that he knows its a touchy subject but he still wanted to say congratulations. That really meant a lot to me.

But the clothes thing. Damnit, that was one of my favorite shirts, and an integral part to my favorite professional outfit. It isn’t something that I can have taylored – it’s a really simple long sleeved Old Navy t-shirt with a great scoop neckline that really shows off my clavicles in a pretty deep teal color. I love losing weight but I’m really frustrated with losing all my favorite clothing and not being financially able to replace them the way I would like. And frankly even if I could afford to buy the nice clothes I love I shouldn’t until I’m done shrinking – take a look at the Joan dress I got in September from Torrid – fit perfectly then, far too loose now. That one I will have taylored though. Later.

In the meantime I will occasionally whine, whinge and complain about losing another favorite sartorialish peice. And then exhault when I find a stylish replacement. It’s a cycle.