My exams ended just over a week ago. During the weeks leading up to my exams, I ate circles around me. If something was edible, I consumed it. For those few weeks, my existence was akin to Homer Simpson in the Land of Chocolate. I lived only to eat. By the time the exams ended, I was impressed by the fact I had put on only a little weight. There was a slight belly, but nothing colossal. I must be super fit to not have gotten fat from the random boxes of cereal and Rollo yoghurts I consumed, I reckoned. For those few weeks I had no restraint.
Lastnight, I went shopping. I was more than due to pay homage to the high-end labels (I had not seen since last week). I am 6ft 1/1m 85cm with a fairly OK body. Generally, clingy, tailored clothes look good on me. The reason I consider high end labels my friend is that they, like a truthful and often blunt friend, will tell me if I am not conforming to their ideal body type. In BT2, I tried on a few T-shirts by Junk de Luxe. I love Junk de Luxe’s style. It has the perfect balance of preppy and funk. Junk de Luxe were about to deliver a moment of truth.
In the changing room I stripped off. I really hate changing rooms. They remind me of that awful box Trinny and Susannah lock individuals in to show them their body. Trinny and Susannah force the captive to come to terms with the positive aspects of their body. It is cringe worthy. In my box (or changing room) I saw the colossal stomach on me – wakeup call. Where the hell did that come from? I asked myself. It appeared I put more weight on than I thought. I refrained from buying any clingy, tight T-shirts. I even went for a run, when I got home.