
Once upon a time, when I was a chunk, I made an inspiration list of things I wanted more than food. My list version of “nothing tastes as good as thin feels” began with wanting to see my collar bones. The list also included things that hurt my feelings. Moose. “Well someone sure has been eating well.” Cellulite. Back fat. Gym class. To be able to wear trendy clothes. It quickly followed with wanting to be able to tuck a shirt into my pants, and wear a belt! My first summer back from fat camp, I remember posing for a photograph outside Jones Beach Stadium with Barry Rosenbloom. I don’t remember the performance, but I remember the outfit. I was wearing a hunter green button down shirt (the buttons were covered with the same green fabric), Big John faded jeans, and a brown braided belt from The Gap. Brown penny loafers with acutal pennies (damn, I’m so bringing them back into the mix this week!) It was the first time I’d worn a belt in public. I was beaming in the photo. I still love belts today.



