Illustration by Garance DoréOh no, it's back. Not this. I thought we were passed this.
Sigh. I guess not.
My Felicity Season 4* reoccurring dream is back. There I am, trapped in an episode wearing an Anthropologie sweater and drinking lattes thinking that I fit in with Ben, Noel, "Felisse" and the gang but no one knows who I am, no matter how hard I try to chime in with their weird whispering banter, I get blank stares from the cast. There's no director, there are no lines, but I'm there and I can't leave. I'm imprisoned on a WB set in the 90s and it's awful. This dream that I've had sporadically throughout my twenties (and apparently now my thirties) usually spears its head when I am uneasy with something in my life. While there are several things that I'm antsy about, there's one thing that I have been suspicious about for quite some time now. Allow me to explain...
So I know they say that once you enter your thirties your metabolism changes and you'll never be as thin as you were in your early twenties. Okay, I accept. Well I don't have a sweet tooth, I don't have late night cravings, I eat breakfast, I eat small meals, and I work out vigorously yet the other day I was simply unable to get my ass into a piece of clothing, which is slowly and depressingly becoming the norm. Was it my skinny jeans that I was trying to squeeze into? No. My circa 2000 Frankie B corduroy hiphuggers? No. An Hervé Leger tubeskirt? No, I know better than to try to get this bad boy on after living in France for three years. What I couldn't get my larger-than-life ass and mashed potato thighs into was my librarian chic knee-length silk pleated skirt. The once flowing silk lining wouldn't get past my hips and the zipper bit me as I tried to slide it over my new doughy love handles. I couldn't believe it.
While I don't gorge on pain au chocolat or have midnight cupcakes and macarons cravings, I am still consuming copious amounts of sugar, only my sugar is coming from another place. A place I don't want to admit is adding to my weight gain, but if there's anyplace to be brutally honest, it's here. What's causing this "expansion" is wine. There I said it. I just can't drink it the way I used to in my twenties because my metabolism is catching up with me and the alcohol is not breaking down like it used to. I have to be honest, I have been known to polish off a bottle of white in one night. Does this happen often? No, but it has and if each glass has 120 calories multiply that times five and there's my weight gain. I knew this day was going to come where I'd have to cut back on one thing in my life, I just didn't think it was going to be my precious wine.
For a while I thought I may have been an alcoholic because it does run in my family. I used to go with my dad's to his Upper West Side meetings and at a young age, this planted the seed in my mind that I too would end up in these rooms. When I was living in Brooklyn I was convinced and went to a few AA meetings but somehow my "shares" about the joys of finding a great full bodied California white and pairing it with a spinach, walnut and pear salad while listening to Stan Getz on a warm spring day didn't exactly get sympathy in the rooms and I never went back. Perhaps there's a "Faux Bourgeoisie Anonymous" group out there for me.
While I can't self-diagnose myself but also know that I haven't been self-medicating either, I just enjoy the taste of wine. Starting today, I will restrict my wine consummation to the annoying recommended "5 units per week" which means I've already consumed my units for this week...and perhaps next. Let's see what happens. While I'm realistic with my goals and know that I will not be squeezing into my hoochie mama low rise jeans with a zipper the length of my pinkie nail, there's no reason in hell that a 30 year old woman who works out everyday cannot fit into a skirt that my grandmother used to wear. Come on.
Wish me luck.
I'm so not excited about this...
How about you ladies? Is there anything that you have had to cut out or watch as your twenties coast by? Or is this just me?!
*Oh and why season 4? Because Julie is not there and Megan isn't goth anymore. Duh.
