In Your Pants

My sister reading this after November will read the title of this and think i am talking of the game “In your pants” where you add that to the end of book titles. This game doesn’t always work, for those of you who want to try it, but for many books it works. I learned of this game from the vlogbrothers, specifically from John Green. One of my friends is reading a rather religious sounding book for one of her classes… “The Hand of God”(in your pants). Other examples that I can think of are “The story of E. E. Cummings” in your pants. “Storm Warning” in your pants. “Thief of Time” in your pants.

Just walk around your house and look at book titles with this thought in mind, you will find some funny ones.

But no, this post is about a different matter.

I’ve mentioned in other posts that I dislike people thinking that they’re fat (as in disliking the thought, not the people though they can get irritating), but I recently had an experience that made me think a bit hypocritically.

I was going through my clothes, mainly my skinny jeans because I wanted to wear a particular pair of boots, and was noticing that one or two didn’t fit. That was okay, as they were rather small on me anyway.

I went for my light blue skinny jeans, and it was alright, I shimmied into them and used the belt loops to tug them a bit higher–

ZTCCHHHHHT

That is the sound that DOOM makes. Coincidentally, that is also the sound jeans make when they rip.

The back of my pants, thankfully, didn’t rip, but I just about ripped the belt loops off.

Not just the belt loops though. The fabric that they were attached to. There’s a square little bit that looks like I was trying to cut around it and gave up halfway through.

You can’t rip a pair of pants while trying to wiggle into them without having some unsavory thoughts.

Aside from a mantra of swear words, I was also thinking… other things.

Oh my god I just ripped my pants… Seems like you did. Yes

I am so FAT! Yep. Fatso, fatty fatty fatso~! You aren’t fat.

Oh my god, I’m never going to be able to fit into any of my pants…. Nope! Never! And you’ll have to wear skirts all the time too! Shut up! You aren’t fat. Calm down. Think rationally.

I’m going to rip all of my pants when I try to get them on, I will never be able to wear my boots! NOOOOOO! No you won’t, but hey, a bright side is that a fatty like you will get big boobs! Quiet! You won’t, skinny jeans are the only things you have that are at that fits and is slightly too small stage.

I’m going to have to buy new pants… HAH! But you’re poor aren’t you? Buy more paint sets instead. We can paint on clothing instead. No one will notice! Just wear different pants. Calm down. 

I’m poor… I hate pants shopping… Don’t forget that you also have to buy really big bras too, since now that you’re turning into a fatty you’ll have bigger boobs! Go pants shopping now! You heard the other one, skinny jeans is all you have! I didn’t say that! You DO have other pairs of pants. Calm down already, you’re wasting time. You have to go meet friends.

Oh jeez, I DO have to meet them in–HOLY SH*T I’M LATE! Dooon’t wooorrry…. Your friends won’t care. Just bring out the paints and you’ll be ready to go I’m telling you, NO ONE will notice if you walk out with painted pants. Just do it.. Don’t paint yourself. It isn’t good for your body. Just put on that new pair you got last time we were at home. 

Oh right, I DO have those pants… Paint is cooler! Just get changed already…

That went on for a while, even as I was walking to the bus station. Insanity was certain that it would be fun to tell the friends that the pants were actually painted on, and Sanity was putting her foot down and it seemed as though she had pre-recorded a mantra of “Calm down, calm down already, calm down…” with random points of body self-esteem boosts throughout.

Occasionally I found myself wondering how cool it would be to paint one of my pants all whacked out colours, and Insanity suggested bleach as well, and I was well and truly distracted until I actually reached my friends and blurted out what Insanity suggested.

Hey guys, I just ripped my pants!

There was silence, and then they sort of leaned to one side and looked as if they were looking for me to have a huge split down my ass or something.

Sanity and I caught up on the conversation after our shock that I had actually started a conversation like that and hurried to assure than that no, I didn’t walk all the way here with ripped pants (Insanity giggled and told me that my friends thought I would do that. “They must have a GREAT impression of you!“), but had ripped the belt loops when I was getting changed.

Still, thoughts about fatness floated through my head even as I was thinking about how I know I’m not fat and am in fact very comfortable with my body in almost every situation… It was just this pants situation that threw me.

It was ridiculous in my pants.

Freshman 15? More like 50 I hear…

One of the funny things I heard about Freshman year is the Freshman 15.

Your average goes down 15%.

You gain 15 pounds.

A not-quite equal trade-off I think.

But it seems that people focus more on the 15 pounds than the marks. My sister bought me some stuff from the Lindt store , one of those large freezer Ziploc baggies with a bunch of the wonderful stuff. She warned me as she handed over the clear bag of wonder, that Freshman 15 is more like Freshman 50, and I should be careful.

I am generally careful, and most of the bag is still sitting beside me.

Waiting.

Tempting.

In general, I worry about my health, but it’s mainly the idea of whether or not I’m getting enough iron, enough of whatever vitamins I need, and in general if I’m healthy. I have a high metabolism, and playing hockey ups that as well. I eat a lot of meat (Im the carnivore of the family), and I worry about if I’m eating enough greens, if I perhaps should have had another apple, and If I should perhaps take one of those Vitamin C pills–just in case.

I don’t actually worry much about my weight. I once tried keeping track of my weight, but it depends on what I do over the summer that shows what me normal weight is. Hockey season it’s pretty constant (NO, I’m not going to say what it is), and it’s only been the past two summers while I’ve been working that my weight stays about the same. Muscle adds weight. I like muscle, even if it makes the sleeves on some of my shirts tight as they were after this past summers experience.

But it seems as though the rest of the female population in my year focus a lot more on the number than what the weight is from. It’s just AMAZING how much people focus on their weight. Yes you should be a healthy weight for your size, but everywhere I look as I head to my classes I’m seeing the uuber skinny legs and the jutting collar bones of people who just Don’t Eat.

I kind of wish that the mentality was a bit more like in the olden days, where if a woman had wide hips and some meat on her she was a much more desirable wife/person/whatever than the petit, breakable looking girls.

I would much rather hear about how worried one of my friends is about keeping her scholarship up (NOOOO! DO NOT LOSE 15%!!!), even as tedious as that can be, rather than hear about how they wanted to get themselves a yogourt but had to get a salad instead–have to watch their weight after all.

EAT! I don’t want you looking over my MEAL with envy as you pick at your rabbit-food! You got a freaking meal plan because it’s required of first years, USE IT! It’s TAX FREE for students!

WHAT can I say to make you realize that weight is good for you?

It’s okay to be ‘FAT’. Overweight is bad, but you won’t get overweight by eating a HEALTHY amount of food!

Losing weight makes your boobs smaller.

Gymnasts sometimes have trouble getting pregnant because they’re too skinny and their body wouldn’t be able to support the baby.

Sometimes during a hockey season I would get too skinny, and (guys skip ahead) I would skip my period for a while. Yay for losing it, but as soon as I got it again I GOT HORRIBLE CRAMPS! A blender in my stomach was set to PUREE and then bleach was poured over it!

The Boney look will NEVER be in style.

If I can count your ribs without you sucking in a breath, you look like a skeleton, not a model. (Yes, that was a bit harsh)

Modelling in Europe changed so that if you were below what was a healthy body weight for your height, you were fired from the agency. Many agencies lost more than half of their models.

All I’m trying to say is that not being a stick is more than okay.

Also, there’s only so many times that you can reassure someone that they’re not fat before you turn around ad call them pudgy to spite.

Don’t be that person.

A HEALTHY weight is a SEXY weight.