Much Like a Sausage

Once upon a time, a friend got engaged and asked me to be a bridesmaid. I agreed and, dutifully, went shopping for yet another bridesmaid's dress. 

This was in 2003, and the trend then was for brides to pick one fabric and let their attendants choose the style of their own dress. How innovative, right? How trusting, too. 

Off I went to get measured at the bridal store, about six months before the wedding. For reasons surpassing understanding, the style I chose to wear was a halter top (OK) and a column skirt. Now, really. I thought it looked so cool, and it certainly was different than the A-line and quasi-poufy dresses I'd worn in the 1990's!

Problem 1: When I tried the sample on, it was in a dark color, which - let's face it - is just slimming. 

Problem 2: There were way too many life changes going on in between the measuring and the wedding. Weight gain was inevitable, and I didn't allow for it.

So, to the first problem we go...The actual color of the actual dress I got to wear for the blessed event was not a dark color. It was, in fact, the opposite of a dark color. It was, in fact, LAVENDER. 

Which makes the second problem all the more unfortunate. In between the month I got measured (January) and the month of the wedding (July), I...

• Began planning a wedding of my own.
• Moved across the country to begin seminary.
• Moved away from my new fiancé and my dog, leaving them across the country temporarily.
• But couldn't move into my own place right away, and so I traveled and stayed with family and friends.
• Had some of my belongings lost in said cross-country move.

It was quite the time for me: gut-wrenching, spirit-bending, mind-blowing. Yeah, I gained weight. And so, by the time my friends had their blessed wedding day, the bridesmaid attire made me look like...well, a big lavender sausage.

It was quite hideous.

I could walk, but not gracefully. I couldn't really sit down. Dancing was possible, but I'm fairly certain I looked like a lavender version of that dancing hot dog they show at drive-in movies.

Again, hideous.

So, the other night, I returned to my walking routine. I was in a huge hurry to get out there, trying to beat the onset of dusk, which is coming earlier and earlier now. I have a pretty set collection of things I wear when I walk, but a girl's gotta have some rules. So here are mine:

• Baggy bottoms? Tighter top.
• Tighter bottoms? Baggier top.

Simple, right? Foolproof, you might even think. Except for the evening when I'm in a big hurry and get dressed for my walk without really thinking. The result? A tighter bottom and a tighter top. Worn together. As in, simultaneously. 

I didn't even realize it until I was outside, and by then, there was no way in hell I was going back inside to change. COME ON. 

Problem is, I felt kinda sausagey again. I wasn't physically uncomfortable and the clothes aren't really THAT tight. But it was out of my comfort zone, for sure.

So, here's what I discovered as I walked dressed like a multi-colored bratwurst: GOOD POSTURE HELPS. So, what that means is that, first of all, every woman over the age of 90 has been right all my life. My grandmother. Your grandmother. "Stand up straight," they say, "it just looks better!"

What it also means is that I walked better, too. I began to find more confidence, rather than less. And by the time I reached the main road, my playlist had gotten to Madonna singing about how beautiful she feels when she Vogues. And...I felt a bit beautiful, too.