Christmas Day outfit sadness

I know that I promised that my next post would be about the "thing" that I wanted to share, but it's been a month and it's taking me a while to write.  So as much as I never use the word 'promise' lightly, I'm going to bend the meaning this time, and write about my 'Christmas Day outfit sadness' first, while it's fresh in my mind.

I started snapping about it (which you'll be able to watch when I get up to date with my YouTube vlog / Snapchat stories uploading), but instead of having a heart to heart over 50x 10 videos to finish off the story, I thought it'd be kinder to write it out.

I have an underlying guilt for feeling the way I do; because I know that I'm blessed to a) have the freedom to celebrate Christmas b) have people to celebrate with c) have clothes to celebrate in.  So please know that I'm so aware of this, and genuinely feel so unbelievably blessed.

Also; the irony is certainly not lost in me doing a few snaps saying "I'm sad about what I'm wearing" followed by snaps of a lot of food and a very full plate of a Christmas feast:

My contribution

"Skim between the flags": my mum indicating which part of the seafood dip didn't have prawns for non seafood loving family 😁

But, disclaimers to one side; despite anything, I'm still human, and what I feel is real.

Also, there's no major crazy event, climax and resolution, or story to tell here.  It's just telling you about how I was feeling that day.  So don't get too disappointed by the uneventfulness of my ramblings.

As I mention all the time, all I wear these days (at this weight) are what I long ago dubbed "my black uniform".  It consists, of, as you can guess, all black.  Black bra, black "safety singlet", black top, black cardie, black pants, black socks, black shoes, and 70% of the time, black underwear.  Whether it's boot camp, work, casual or formal socialising, it's my black uniform.

I'm sure many people reading this won't need this explained, but for those who do, it's not because I'm in mourning, a goth, or like to be dull.

It's because black covers, hides, flattens, conceals and blends in rolls, bumps, lumps more than it's lighter clothing counterparts.  It stands out less when among people: something I try to do.  It's the colour of all of my bigger clothes in my wardrobe, and I do not like going out to buy new clothes when I'm not comfortable at this size and am actively trying to do something about it.  In my wardrobe I already have a girls dream stock of beautiful, colourful clothes that I adore -- just in smaller sizes.

I hate wearing all black, but for those reasons, at this weight, it's financially sound, and physically more comfortable.

[Note: 'more comfortable'; not 'comfortable'.]🙁

It's been a couple of years since I've been able to (comfortably) wear something bright or pretty on Christmas Day.  I can only vaguely remember how it feels to go searching in November or December for a "Christmas Day outfit".  Mainly because I've only ever been able to do it a couple of times.  As an adult, most years it's been more of a case of "what's going to cover me up and smooth my rolls", rather than finding that illustrious, bright dress that you can't wait to wear for the first time on the most special day of the year.

So, with this in mind, I hadn't pre-planned what I'd wear.  You don't have to pre-plan when you have a uniform...

Three days before my family's Christmas dinner, I ducked into the shops to look for part of my Mum's birthday present, which is also this week.  It ended up being one of those "oops, I accidentally bought myself a present first", shopping trips.  I wasn't even thinking of myself when I was shuffling through a clothes rack.  I don't ever think of myself in clothes shops these days.

But I came across a black top that I thought I could actually buy.  It was similar to my other 72 black tops but different enough that it'd make me feel like it was new.  It was a chiffony type material with what I describe as 'curly' short sleeves.  99% of my black shirts have seen better days, so I decided to go with it.

Walking through the shops with my first clothing purchase in so long I can't recall, I decided this could be my "Christmas outfit top", and after holidays, I could also wear it to work.  No-one would ever have been able to tell that this was a different top to my daily uniform, but I would, and I knew that I'd feel better than when I wear my other very worn 99% of black tops.

Over the next few days I also thought I might braid my hair or do something a little different with it.  Recently I was looking at my accessories: head bands, ribbons, bows, clips, as well as jewellery, and I had a thought flash through my mind: that I couldn't wait to lose weight until I could wear these again...

I picked myself up from the thought immediately: why did I have to wait until I'd lost weight to wear that stuff?  Hair is not fat.  Ear piercings don't alter (other than for cultural / religious reasons or unless you're into this):

There's no reason other than my own desire to blend into walls as to why I couldn't accessorise or use my throw a head band on now and again.

So I started getting a vague idea in my mind of some kind of "braidy type thing'' and a little more time spent on my makeup to accompany my new Christmas top.  And, although it wasn't a dream dress on a body weight I'm comfortable with, I had *some* glimmer of looking forward to feeling a little better about myself at my family Christmas dinner.

We celebrated on Boxing Day night this year so that everyone who's currently in town could manage to fit in their in-laws with the least amount of hectic driving stress.

I had my Boxing Day planned out time wise, with a good couple of hours to chill out and get dressed.  But without boring you with the details, things changed, and it ended up being 4pm when I finished prepping the food I was bringing and had loaded the car; ....and I was supposed to be at my parents house at 4pm. And I still had to have a shower and get dressed, hair and makeup.  

It wasn't important that I was there right on time, but still, it was Christmas "Day", and I didn't want to be too late.  And even with the quickest shower/dress/hair/makeup session and driving, I was already an hour behind schedule, now due to arrive around 5pm.

I realised I wouldn't be able to do some type of cute "braidy thing" or do anything different with my make-up, but at least I had the new top.  I tried to 'comfort' myself with a thought that I have way too often these days: "it doesn't even matter about my hair and makeup, it's not going to change how I look / I already feel gross, so why bother".

Which I know is sad and *should* be changed around, but I'm always raw with you guys, and it's my current reality.

Anyway, all hot and flush faced from rushing around, despite being fresh out of the shower, I put the top on.

And it didn't fit.

I hadn't tried it on at the shop, but size wise and holding it up, I really thought it would be ok.

It went on, and technically it "fit", but realistically, it didn't.  The 'drapey' intent of the material was more akin to a wet suit, and if I wasn't wearing a "safety singlet", it wouldn't have 100% covered my navel.

I was suddenly so sad about it.  Braids and a black top that look like every other black top you own aren't the well planned illustrious glam red dress that would be the ultimate dream.  But it was to be my substitute for this year and increase my self esteem just that *slight* bit on the inside.

I double checked I couldn't get away with it by turning to check my side-on reflection --- and yeah, I couldn't.

What I ended up wearing

I ended up throwing on a very drapey, chifoney top that does fit and cover me.  But I wear it every second day, and it has long sleeves, which meant I was a little warm.

I chucked my hair into a single, simple, primary school appropriate ponytail, and threw on my every day stock-standard makeup.  This was when I started snapping that I was feeling sad about it.  But as I was running so late, I said realised it was silly to be snapping (!) and said that I'd continue later...

It just made me crave having something nice to wear; something that makes me excited about leaving the house in; something I'll always know as "my Christmas Day 20xx dress".

I hate feeling uncomfortable, gross and overweight, and not being able to do that girly thing of dressing up for Christmas Day the way that I would like.

As I said at the start of this post, first and foremost, I know that I'm extremely blessed.  And it goes without saying that the meaning of Christmas is not about the clothes that you wear.

It is possible to understand how lucky you are and feel down on yourself at the same time.

I don't need sympathy; as I said on my snaps; I know that the reason that I can't wear something I love right now is my own doing.

But that doesn't mean that it doesn't make you sad on the inside.

Or more sure that next year will be different. xx