Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Snappy September - Day Eight - Munscle

Even during the exhausting commitment of Snappy September (yes dear readers, 'Soldier On' is my middle name: never let it be said I don't do the least I can possibly do), there's no reason why one of my photos can't be used to illustrate a Word Verification definition.

Munscle - the unfashionable pair of jeans kept as a barometer of the weight we were long ago and want to continue being.

These are the jeans I wore at my fattest:
























I know - a big blobby blue denim scoop of ice-cream atop a double cone but there's quite a few clues here that show that - thankfully, it was a long time ago.

a) Sapphire is only three years old

b) the car isn't dented; and

c) we're washing the car for what was most likely the very last time.

My Munscle was actually the same style and colour as these pictured but in size twelve and I used to regularly pop them on - waistband threatening to meet up with my underwire instead of my Map O' Tassie - and make sure that I could still breathe, bend over to do my shoelaces and even sit for a day at the desk. If so, my weight was acceptable.

Therefore, last week was a big moment for me as I handed them over to Sapphire.

She accepted them with the dignity and respect they deserved and vowed that when she arrived at Grandma and Grandpa's house in the holidays, she'd cut off the legs, sew across the crotch and transform them into a shoulder bag.

*sniffle*

9 comments:

River said...

Sad moment indeed, Kath, but as a shoulder bag, the jeans will be used, rather than languishing away in the back of the wardrobe, wondering why no-one loves them anymore.

Vanessa said...

Just keep running, just keep running. My latest mantra to get back into pre pregnancy jeans, before he enrols into school.

The Man at the Pub said...

There is no God!


Nah, wasn't that bad Kath. I've seen worse, and we all have our 'washing the car jeans' from the old days when you didn't have to pay some jerk $20 so you could use his special carwash bay to wash your own car (says the Man at the Pub, madly backtracking and hoping that these were primarily 'washing the car jeans' or occasional 'going to the mall' jeans so you could blend in but never 'I look great in these jeans' jeans)


I'm gonna go away now.

Kath Lockett said...

River, how right you are. Maybe she'll let me borrow the bag now and then, for old times' sake?

Vanessa, running running running - otherwise I'll have to find a replica of those baboon-bum jeans again!

Er, thanks PubMan. I think..... And yes, they were car washing jeans but did get an outing or thirty in the early nineties.

River said...

I don't see why she wouldn't. There'd be plenty of room in such a bag for HEAPS of chocolate.

drb said...

Confused - did you give your munscle or your biggest pairs of jeans to Sapph ?
I hope it is the latter....


Love the photo!!

Elisabeth said...

I'm not myself, Kath, so I might read you wrong here. The jeans celebrate a past moment of glory when you felt in better form, or worse? No matter they've moved on as your daughter's bag.

One of my mother's blouses which she embroidered in the 1930s has since been cut into various shapes, the bits that were worth preserving. My artistic older sister has since framed the shapes so that several of us so desiring might have a wall memento of our mother's blouse.

Perhaps the jeans then bag could have a similar fate.

The Plastic Mancunian said...

G'Day Kath,

As I commented on Pandora's blog recently, I don't own any Munscle - I'll bet you hate me too :-)

Today's word verification is "fanti" - a fan of weird clothes (like me).

:0)

Cheers

PM

Kath Lockett said...

River - yes! I wonder if I can persuade her to add some kind of plastic lining so that my ex-munscle becomes a cooler bag that prevents the chocolates from melting?

Drb, the munscle went to Sapphire; the big-arse jeans in the photo were disposed of a long time ago. With glee and relief, I might add.

Elisabeth, the munscle jeans (so not the ones in the photo; they were my FAT pants) celebrated my ideal weight. If I fit into them, I'm on track.