• sisters on a mission.

  • Three sisters. One in Virginia. One in London. One in New York. None of whom wear shorts. Ever.

  • the mission?

    Running.
    Taking delight.
    Learning Italian.
    Getting to Italy.
    Wearing shorts.
    In Italy.
    June 2011.

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color me happy

happy feet

Colleen and I were just talking the other day about needing to add more color to our lives.   I’ve done a good job with my house but somehow over the years my closet has turned from vibrant jewel-tones to brown, black and gray with a couple of semi-colorful tops thrown in.   Getting dressed in the morning has become less than inspiring.

So this weekend, to celebrate my final run of C25K Week 4, I went in search of a little special sauce for my wardrobe.  Ok, really I was just looking for some new sandals, preferably something beyond my normal neutrals.   After trying on many, many shoes (don’t get me started about my stupid skinny non-shoe-fitting feet), I finally found something that was both comfortable and contained my considerably long tootsies.  Also it had rhinestone bling!

But then, the dilemma – what color?  The red patent leather or a more practical beige?   A quick consultation with my sisters (I heart my blackberry) confirmed my instincts – RED!  Now I just need some warm weather and toenail polish and I’ll be set.

skinny does not equal fit

Heather circa 1981

Full disclosure.  I am skinny.  I’ve always been that way.  I’ve never quite made it onto the ideal height / weight charts.    People assume that means I am firm and healthy.  But they would be wrong.

OK sure back in my 20s and 30s they would have been mostly right.  I could wear shorty shorts without thinking twice about it.   I had a pretty healthy diet, wasn’t really interested in sweets, drank lots of water, worked out.   But then when I hit my 40s I developed all-consuming cravings for chocolate, sugar, and chai tea lattes.   Before I knew it, I was covered in cellulite and couldn’t fit into any of my clothes.

The thing is, I still weigh the same.  It’s just that my fat / muscle ratio is all out of whack and the fat has all settled in my derriere…and thighs…and.   I would rather have gone up a cup size (or at least filled up a cup) but, no, I’m still just as skinny up top.   Sigh.

Anyway, since my legs are always covered in pants, people just see the same skinny me.   And they certainly don’t understand when I comment that I am out of shape and need to cut out the sweets.  So I’ve mostly stopped talking about it.  I get tired of explaining and no one believes me anyway.   Except my sisters.   And my husband.  And now anyone else who is reading this.   Maybe.