I am throwing out my undies.
It's true. I have thrown out several pairs of underwear, and it has helped. Why? I hear you ask. Well, these were Hi-Top undies, those fat-sucking up-to-the-navel undies that pulled everything in tight and gave the illusion of a flat, did-so-not-have-three-kids stomach. They also looked bloody awful, despite their cheery fluro colours, but that was by the by.
|Bum shown not blogger's own|
I hated those undies. They were effective but uncomfortable. They made me feel fat even when I wasn't, because they were tight and constricting instead of comforting and soft.
So I chucked them out. All seven pairs. Gone.
I've also taken a break from skinny jeans. It's not that I don't like the way they look, because I do. But I need to feel flowy and loose and comfortable. So I've shoved all my skinnies in the back of my wardrobe and bought a nice, relaxed-fit pair of boot-cut-but-almost-flared Levis. I am revelling in them. They are awesome. I could do the splits in them (if I could do the splits in anything). I could do hi-kicks in them (if it wouldn't throw my back out). I could even sleep in them (and I actually have). I may never put on skinny jeans again.
So I am happy from the waist down, if you know what I mean.
But as for the waist up, there's still the small (A cup) issue of a brassiere. But while I'm delighted to set my navel and legs free, I think I'm going to keep the girls at home for a while longer.
Because if anything is going to bring me further down - and I say this quite literally - it's them.