Kiss My Knits!

So I’m wrestling a pair of jeans onto a mannequin that my husband has stored in the attic from his college days, and I’m thinking, “I should LJ this.” Things that are absurd are ripe for Livejournal. I continue to think this as her leg falls off, as I have to hoist her by her boobs to get the steel rod inserted into her calf, and… as I notice that my old college clothes are too big for her.

People. In college, I weighed 115 pounds, wore a size six or eight, lifted weights (like, actual iron, not those little tiny dumbbells), and was generally in very good shape. I once lifted a Volvo that was stuck in a stairwell off of its shocks. My point is, I had a good, healthy body and was average weight for my height, and my old clothes are just hanging on this mannequin. And the mannequin is taller than me.

It’s no wonder girls get so screwed up with body image.

Now if you’ll pardon me, I have to go glue a finger back onto a fiberglass hand and mutter to myself some more.