Disaster Dressing....Just Say No!

So I'm packing for a weekend in New England to visit my sisters - Newburyport, MA and Stratham, NH to be exact. I was talking to one of them about whether or not we would work out. I can't imagine going three days without doing something but it was -3 degrees at her house this morning, so I'm wondering about an inside session. I was saying that I hate how much room my sneakers and workout stuff take up when you are trying to do carry-on only when she said, Oh, I always wear my sneakers. And then she launched into her Oprah-inspired bit about how tie shoes  are the best shoes to wear if the plane crashes because they don't come off your feet, and how she wears 100% cotton because it won't adhere to your skin in case of fire.....I had to interrupt. Girl? I said. I'm sure you have some good points, but I'm not dressing for disaster. 

Nope, it's cute outfits all the way. And if I go down in fiery crash and they are trying to identify me, I want the conversation to go something like this:

Jet Blue Employee #1 -That body is missing its head. 
Jet Blue Employee #2 - I see that. But look at the cute outfit. Do you think she got it at Marshals? 

Not only am I celebrating not having the flight attendant ask me if I want the seat belt extender, but I intend to sport a cute outfit, complete with boots guaranteed to go flying off on impact.  I did not work my butt off for the last 2 years to be rocking sneakers and a sensible natural fiber ensemble.  No ma'am. 

Which brings me to my point: it's really more of a philosophy than a clothing choice, isn't it? You're either dressing for disaster or you're not. Don't dress for disaster. You never know...life is short....grab the bull....choose your pithy one liner and insert it here. But think about it: you absolutely never know who you are going to meet when you are traveling, so why not bring it, outfit-wise? If you are single, like my sister, you could be sitting next to your future life partner. If you aren't looking for love, you could be sitting next to the casting director for the upcoming Real Housewives of Manassas show. Or the person who vets interviewees for "O" magazine (well, not the one who did the What to Wear When Traveling piece...).  The possibilities are endless! 

I get dressing for comfort - long lines, big crowds, small seats - none of these situations are made any more enjoyable with the addition of control top pantyhose, back-fat grabbing strapless bras, wedgie-inducing slacks or hemlines that require constant tugging.  But you don't need to dress like you've just lost your life savings and are going to live with your ex brother in law in exchange for helping him with the pigs, either. 

Not me. I'm dressing like I'm off to close The Big Deal.  And the Big Deal is? Getting to spend the weekend with family I adore.  Getting to celebrate a weekend that is sure to be filled with laughter, good food and lots of love. So there's no way I'm dressing for disaster en route.  Because whether I get there or not, I headed for a really good time. 

Recipe: 7-Can Soup

So how are you all doing with Detox January?  Yeah, me, too. Once you get used to having cookies for breakfast or eating entire batches of homemade Chex Mix before going to the party, it's hard to stop. And c'mon! Superbowl Sunday is just weeks away! And it's in the Constitution of the United States that you have to eat the amount of cheese equal to your birth weight that day - so why bother getting on board now? 
Because you have to, that's why.  Wake up, America. And put down the cookies. 

So here's a "recipe" to get through hump January, called 7-Can Soup. It's an old Weight Watchers favorite and people are always texting me (usually from the grocery store!) because they can't remember the 7th can. It's a great, easy soup to make on a Sunday and take for lunch throughout the week. The downside is that it makes a ton, so if you are the only one eating it, it become the winter equivalent of zucchini from your garden - you're leaving some on neighbor's doorsteps in the middle of the night, or asking perfect strangers on the elevator at work if they've brought their lunch, then shoving plastic containers of it into their unwilling hands. But you can also use it to make new friends and that's nice. 

I don't have the WW points for it because I follow Old School Weight Watchers and never transitioned to the new system. I don't trust it: if I had eaten all the fruit and vegetables I wanted, I wouldn't have gotten into this situation in the first place. So some person less lazy and more driven can figure out the points. And for everyone, it's just yummy. 

7- Can Soup

One can (regular size - 14 oz-ish) of the following:

-low sodium beef broth 
-fat-free refried beans
-diced tomatoes (any)
-black beans or kidney beans, your choice
-can of chicken (I know, who knew chicken came in a can? Obviously, you can use the equivalent amount of cooked chicken but then I'd have to change the recipe name)
-corn
-salsa (about 1/2 a jar)

I also like to add  a small can of chill es.  Throw all ingredients into a big pot and stir. Let heat through, about 10 minutes, to let the flavors mingle.  A friend omits the chicken as adds turkey kielbasa sliced. Go to town and make it your own. 

And remember: The photo shoot for the Sports Illustrated Bathing Suit Edition is coming up and, if they have an Over 50 edition, I want in - don't you?  I've already had an offer to be the centerfold in Shar pei Monthly and could so give those wrinkly dogs a run for their money! Meanwhile, eat some soup.....

In this outfit? Are kidding?

So the downside of losing 92 pounds is......just kidding, there is no downside! But one of the challenges is that you no longer have your slouchy outfits. Your "I've got the flu and am not leaving the house" outfits. The ones you wear when you are too lazy to put in your contacts.  You know the ones: sweats you wore during pregnancy that still fit despite that fact that your youngest is 15; your college sweatshirt which now reads "Mo  t  oly ke;" your once sassy jeans which rest just an inch or two below your bra band.  My entire wardrobe used to consist of those outfits, plus a pair of black pants, several "nice tops,"  and a cocktail dress for weddings that, by the end, required the rental of heavy equipment, ropes and pulleys to get in to. And Spanx. Don't forget the Spanx. 

So then, when you lose 90+ pounds, you don't have those outfits. You can only take stuff in so much before the side seams are inches from the zipper and you look like one giant pocket from the back. And no, I don't have any clothes from 15 years ago that were "classic" enough to resurect.  So you have new clothes. From this decade only. We have a pal who recently lost 30 pounds and has been modeling her her clothes from the 80s and 90s on FaceBook with an enthusiastic, "Look what I can fit in to!" caption. These outfits look like they came from Melanie Griffith's  wardrobe in Working Girl and only need the Really Big Hair to complete the look. We have emplored her to buy some thing from this century to wear in her new/old size. Remember the adage, Just because you can, doesn't mean you should? This applies to clothes from the disco era. 

And therefore, I don't want to do any of the chores usually associated with those outfits. Ergo, my house is a mess. But I look really, really cute.  On Sundays, I usually workout in the morning, then come home and shower and put on whatever I'm going to wear to church that evening. A few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon, I said to my husband that  I was antsy and he suggested that I read. To which I replied, Are you crazy? In this outfit? I don't know, I just don't feel like cleaning the bathrooms once I've put on my latest find from Marshall's. I feel like going out to lunch. This is getting to be a problem. Things are not getting done. 

Take today, for example. I did a 4-mile walk run outside, came home and showered and put on a white t-shirt, skinny jeans, a striped cardigan and cowbow boots. Adorable! So I should spend the afternoon in the basement finally organizing the Christmas decorations? Nope. Don't wanna. Ditto with changing the sheets, sorting the laundry or any of the other mind-numbing tasks that occupy much of my time. Now cooking, I will do in a cute outfit. So my family will not starve. Especially since I discovered ...wait for it....cute aprons! And, because of the cooking shows:  Giada is never whipping up homemade ravioli in her husband's fraternity t-shirt. 
Eventually, all my new clothes will become my old clothes and I'll have something to put on a "no make up Saturday." I'll have splashed enough grease on my white T to make it Scrubbing Bubbles ready. But until that time.......anyone up for lunch?! 

Day #3 of my New Job....

 I want to explain to you how small my office it.  Think Tom Hanks in Apollo 13. Think lunar module. Now reduce that a bit and add in 2 desks. The office has 5 things in it: 2 desks, one computer, a printer and a chair. Oh, make that 6 because it also has a space heater. While not quite as cold as the unheated bathroom in the hallway, you can see your breath in the office and could use the closet to chill a bottle of wine. I will look into this and report back.

Yesterday I expected to go to work and sell some stuff for my boss on Ebay. I was going to be selling stethoscopes because really? Who needs five? Instead, after I chipped the ice formation off the lock and entered, one hip at a time, I found that my boss was away and had left me actual work to do. Since this was my third day on the job, I felt a little proud that he thought I actually knew what I was doing. I plugged away at the inquiries he had left me (that's what he calls them) but even with the space heater turned up to broil, I found myself dozing off, like the heriones in Lifetime movies where they are so cold they have lost their will to live and you are yelling at them from the couch, Don't go to sleep!  Shawn isn't really your brother! You can marry him after all without having to move to West Virginia! Like that. 

I ungarled my tortured hands and went across the street to buy coffee. This isn't something I can do everyday: a cup of coffee is a huge percentage of my hourly wage, and since I was looking for an alternative to volunteering, I will need to break myself of this habit. But like the skier rescued from the avalanche, I needed to get some hot liquid into my body before my tracheal tube froze solid. Did I mention that my office is cold?! 

Back in the office, I attemped to jog in place to keep warm but kept bumping into things. I finally put on my coat, wrapped my hands around my coffee to thaw, and worked away. I wonder if the AC works any better than the heat does.....

Stay tuned for day #4.....