So I have no idea what size I've been since I gained weight - once I hit size 6, I stopped keeping track. My closet was full of everything from 12 to 16, and I learned a long time ago to stop checking the tags.
My BFF has been on my case for weeks about getting rid of my old clothes. She finally went through my closet last week and I was left with near nothing - a few pairs of leggings and a dozen tank tops. I had a barbecue, a cocktail party and a trip back home coming up two days later. The brat knew this and did it to force me to buy new clothes. I was really, REALLY annoyed with her.
We headed to the promenade and started at Nordstrom, where I picked up 12s and 10s thinking, at absolute best, I MIGHT squeeze into a 10. As we're browsing, an associate comes over and picks through my choices; she asks if they're for me. I nodded, she looked me up and down and said, "you're an 8, love."
I literally burst out laughing in the middle of the store. Yeah okay lady, even on my best day, there's no way I'm a freaking 8. She handed me a white cocktail dress and said, "humor me." Sure yeah, whatever, this isn't humiliating or anything.
I slipped into it and, to my utter surprise, it fit - in fact, it was maybe even a little too big, because I didn't notice until after I took it back off that it had an invisible zipper up the side.
I'm a freaking size 8!
I promptly bought half the store. But in my defense, I literally had no clothes, so it was totally a necessity