My ‘slimmer me’ has vanished!.. Where did she go?…

Have I really been weighing myself incorrectly all these years? Or is the obvious just staring me in the face and I need to diet?

        
 
Back in October last year, the reality of shopping for a nice new top to go out in, and finding something that flattered my curvy figure, was not only difficult but made me look and feel 7 months pregnant. The experience of shopping was upsetting and I found I needed therapy for my retail therapy.. Erm, I choose pizza! Not a good idea, but it tasted great, and in those moments, that’s all that matters. 

So, I decided to give myself a ‘Physical Review’. Standing ‘au naturelle’ in front of the mirror, I wasn’t impressed! So, once the tears had stopped flowing and I looked a little less like your reflection in those funny mirrors at the Fun Fair, I could see what needed to be done. The ‘slimmer me’ was just screaming to get out, and although I’d usually just shut her up with chocolate and pizza, sometimes doughnuts too, I knew this had to stop… Enough was enough. 

Size wise I wasn’t ‘big’ by any means, but I felt big for ‘me’ and was therefore unhappy with the image staring back at me. So, arming myself with the good old tried and successfully tested Weightwatchers diet and determination (although, I can hear many of you screaming ‘it can’t have been that bloody successful, can it?!’ What can I say?.. I like chocolate, and possibly pizza too!), I kick-started myself on to the path of re-awakening the ‘smaller me’.

  

A very good friend of mine had been banging the ‘Pilates’ drum for years, she loved it.. Still does. Plus, she looks fantastic from it too! So, with that in mind and given the fact that Arthritis has put a stop to me doing anything remotely aerobic, (although, I seemed to manage perfectly well when it came to running to open the front door to the pizza delivery man..), Pilates had my name written all over it.. Cassey Ho and YouTube were my new friends. 

Maybe this is just me, but I always struggle to stick to a diet for the first week. Now, I know that the first flushes of a diet should be full of drive and excitement at the prospect of changes to come… I know, I hear you! But with me, I can’t seem to stick to it until I see my first ‘loss’, which is a massive hurdle, and as you can imagine, usually results in several false starts and trips… Surprise! Surprise! (Tripping over an empty pizza box to be more precise. I think I’m beginning to spot a theme here, whoopsie! Have you spotted it too?). This time was different though, don’t ask me why, I don’t know. It just was. Maybe I was just sick of my boobs entering a room several seconds before I did…

So, roughly 4 months later (I gave myself a month off for doing well) I’m now only 3lbs away from a loss of 2 stone. That turns out to be 2 dress sizes for me. I feel great being an 8!! The ‘slimmer me’ is here and she’s not bothered about chocolate anymore, and I never thought I’d hear myself say that. .. Ever! I would, however, still happily murder someone for a pizza. Well, you can’t cut out all of your happy foods, can you?! 

To be continued…

 

Like most single women my age (41), I’ve been married, divorced and dated (for what sometimes feels like an eternity), and I’m not entirely sure that my Mr. Right is out there. Believe me, I’ve looked, and looked… and looked again. Niente!… Zip!… Diddly-Squat!

Right! Now stick with me, I’m coming back to this… Now, I appreciate that there are a lot of people in the world with problems/illnesses/issues far greater than mine, and I’m not for one minute trying to make out that my issue is as catastrophic, because I’m not. But for a woman who rocks a good pair of 5 inch heels, being diagnosed with Arthritis in my toes 15 months ago was quite tough to take. I also like to walk a lot, and this can sometimes be quite uncomfortable or even painful. I’m hoping it doesn’t feel worse than it does now, but I guess I’ll find out in due course. 

Things like dressing up to go out, Christmas parties etc, searching for the perfect sexy dress and perfect sexy heels, is now a thing of the past. I used to know what my plan was in shopping for Christmas Party outfits, but this year is a whole new ballgame, I haven’t got a clue! 

So, here I am, thinking that I can’t seem to find Mr. Right, so it must be me.. Am I supposed to be on my own?.. Is this the path that fate has laid out for me?.. So, with the sudden realisation that this could be it for me, not only Arthritic, but single as well, I thought ‘Oh! Terrific!’. Not what I had planned.

For a while, this got me down. I don’t want to be on my own. Everyone else is in a relationship, why can’t I have what other people have?.. Why?.. WHY?.. I’ve settled in to this idea of ‘singledom’ now, and I even started to think that it wouldn’t be so bad, I could do what I wanted, when I wanted and even travel where I wanted. Although, I still don’t know what effect the ‘A’ word will have, I can feel it progressing. 

I’m throwing myself in to traveling (well, planning holidays), but those who know me, know that my holidays are more like traveling. I don’t like to waste time by the pool, I like to see as much as I can and absorb the culture, and I’m currently looking forward to seeing Morocco next year. 

Everything you’re seeing from me on WordPress all forms part of a new chapter in my life, and one I’m thoroughly enjoying. Back in April of this year, I started my first blog on here and I review the books I’ve read and write travel reviews of the places I’ve visited. You can see these on this link: https://flutterbybooks.wordpress.com/. I finally feel like I’m living my life, even though I have newly discovered wardrobe dilemmas when it comes to Christmas Parties and the like. 

So, here I am (again), now happily wearing my ‘new-chapter-in-life’ slippers, and getting rather cozy in them. Then something rather unexpected happens. I’m told by someone almost half my age that I’m a very attractive woman! To be honest, I thought this ship had sailed long ago in regards to younger men finding me attractive, but an expression from the ‘American Pie’ films was used to describe me. Those of you who have seen the films will know what I mean, those who haven’t, Google. Not only is this incredibly complimentary, but it has also highlighted what I thought I wasn’t missing.. a man. So, it looks like my search is back on again..

But this has given me one hell of a confidence boost and has made me realise I could quite easily compete with all the other women who’ll be wearing 5 inch heels this year, and know that I’ll be looking completely fabulous in a rocking pair of flats! Because, that’s how I feel.. Bloody fabulous!

My journey continues…

Christian Dior: The New Look

  

Founder of one of the largest and most successful Fashion Houses of the 20th century, and designer of the most iconic silhouette. Christian Dior. 

Born in 1905 in Granville, a little town in Normandy. He was 1 of 5 children born to Maurice and Isabelle who owned a successful Fertilizer Manufacturing Company. 

The family moved to Paris when he was just 5 years old, and growing up, he sold little fashion sketches to make money. His love of fashion had already set in, much to his Fathers disappointment who wanted him to become a Diplomat. After leaving school, his Father even gave him money to open an Art Gallery in the hope that it would change his chosen course of direction in life, but the Depression hit the Gallery’s finances hard, and so it closed. 

In 1937, he was employed by Robert Piguet, Fashion Designer, who allowed him the prestige of putting together his first 3 collections under the House name. But shortly after that WWII broke out and he had to swap his scissors and tailors chalk for a military uniform. He was called up. 

 In 1942, he left the Army and joined the Fashion House Lucien Lelong, where we worked for the duration of the War designing dresses for Nazi wives and French collaborators, which must have been a bitter pill to swallow as his sister, Catherine, was being held by the Gestapo at Ravensbrück Concentration Camp until it was liberated. 

Four years later, Dior founded his own House, and the following year produced his first collection under his own name. 

 

After the rationing of cloth during WWII, Dior’s ‘New Look’ delivered boned bodices, cinched in waists, and voluminous skirts, the epitome of the feminine shape. The ‘New Look’ established Paris as the fashion capital of the world. 

  

After his death in 1957, the House continued to produce the finest in couture. The silhouette may have changed over the years, but the legacy left behind is still going strong.