The prequel to this entry can be found here…
Jeans of Faith
When I moved back to Berlin in 2017 and turned 50, I basically kissed my jean-clad ass goodbye and swore I would never wear a pair of jeans ever again until I was comfortable in my own body. I abhorred the woman reflected in the mirror, despised the silhouette I saw, and was also told off several times for it. Yeah, well, I’ve since learned to stop listening to the wrong voices. So I became a diva in chinos, linen slacks and trekking pants – anything except jeans, vowing never to wear them again until I lost sufficient weight and and embrace what I saw with a smile.
I know, I know, it was a tad eccentric and there were occasions when I sorely missed them, but I was determined to drop the excess baggage. Regular readers of the FrogBlog are aware that I have become a pollo-pescetarian (aka semi vegetarian where chicken and seafood are allowed) since last year. Pure pollotarianism is too boring even for me, and I couldn’t imagine a life without fish, so I found the most suitable and palatable compromise. On the other hand, just being a pescetarian It has taken a while for adjust to the required discipline and I will not deny that on some days the temptation of a good old fashioned Schnitzel or Bratwurst is almost too much to bear! Nevertheless, I am committed to this lifestyle change, and together with intermittent fasting, the baggage keeps dropping.
There is a beautiful green cocktail dress hanging in my closet for the past two years. I bought it three sizes too small, but rather than send it back I chose to use it as an incentive. I have no idea when I will ever wear it, and I keep trying it on to monitor my progress. Golly gee gosh dang it, the dress fits like a glove now and I am thrilled!
While going through my dark days these past months I lost my appetite for the most part, finding no motivation to cook or create my beloved elaborate breakfasts. It reached the point where it was absolutely no problem to go on a liquid diet for a week to tip me over the weight loss plateau. It was bloody difficult and required determination and perseverance, (cleaning out all solids from the fridge helps) but it worked, and now I go on a liquid diet on most weekends. Call it a purging of sorts, a deep desire to flush out emotional toxins and mental demons and free up some soul space.
Then I concluded that it was time to re-evaluate my attitude towards jeans. After all, jobs, partnerships, assholeships, stupidities, as well as all existing questionable decisions should always be re-evaluated every three to four years… hell, make that every two years. Ah, but being the diva that I am, it had to be with a twist, or as I prefer to call it, a twisted caveat. Excuse me… if I am going to stage a comeback it will damn well be on my terms, which means that my wearing jeans does not include t-shirts, sneakers or flip flops. So I have rediscovered my love for satin and silk tops as well as a long suppressed addiction to vintage boho earrings. Hell yeah!
My therapist was most amused at my attire last week, because she knew of my jeanocide. So when I showed up in jeans, satin and funky boho earrings, she smiled broadly, knowing that I had finally reached a stage wherein I felt comfortable in my own skin again. I’m no quite strutting yet, but I can at least flaunt the sass again.