And she didn’t even buy any clothes…

September 13, 2008 at 5:38 pm Leave a comment

When I was growing up, we (my parents, me, and my sister) would often take trips to Atlanta to go shopping, mainly because our malls were lame back then, and Atlanta was only about a 1.5 hour drive, a straight-shot on the interstate. So off we went, headed towards Phipps Plaza and Lenox Square.

Since I was far beyond shopping in the Normal Stores with all the other teenage brats, these trips were usually pretty boring for me. I didn’t care about clothes or make-up or any of that sparkly girl crap. So I would find whatever record store was in the mall, buy some CDs, get some ice cream, and call it a day.

As I got older, around 16 or 17, I found these trips to be really depressing. All the stores were “off limits” because of my size. I would become giddy when we’d make special trips to the malls that had Torrid stores in them. But really, I hated that buying cute clothes became a such a big chore, such a long drive to the middle of nowhere. I dreamed of a day when I could just go to any mall, any at all, and just buy things like anyone else. One day I would return to those Atlanta malls and just enjoy that it was different than the local malls, and not drive 2 hours just to shop at one store.

So, it happened.

Last week was my mom’s birthday, and we had planned a trip to the beach (we won’t even get into what I look like in a swimsuit. It frightens children.) but the hurricanes kind of spoiled that. So, mom said “Let’s go to Atlanta!” Okay! I packed my overnite bag, crashed on her couch, and tagged along.

Was it magical? Did the people jump out of the stores, begging me to shine my rays of gloriousness in their stores? No. In fact, I realized that a lot of those stores are the same, if not smaller, than they are here, in Birmingham. Why were they held up to such a golden standard in my brain? What was the big deal?

Really, I thought that suddenly being able to buy a dress in Betsey Johnson (not that I can afford her clothes, what gives? The other stuff is cheapish!) would just make me fall over and die of happiness. It didn’t. In fact, I didn’t buy any clothes. I bought jewelry. I guess the *option* of clothing was nice?

The funniest thing happened, though. I decided to shop “alone” so my mom could go do her thing and I could do mine. And, hey, I’m 22. I usually shop alone. This is when my mother looked at me, frowned, and said “I don’t want you to go by yourself,” she sipped on her Starbucks coffee and huffed, “I don’t like the way boys look at you.”

I LOLed. Only my mom would adopt the Bree Hodge way of thinking, now I’m thin and wearing a cute outfit, I must be in danger. Really? If anyone was indeed “staring”, it was probably because my tights were blinding them:


So, I guess the major difference in returning to a place that used to be “off limits”? I don’t know, I had more bags to carry, but most of those were leftovers from California Pizza. That’s new. Oh, and the skinny clothes from those darling boutiques? They’re really expensive, and surprisingly ugly 90% of the time. Yep, shopping as a “thin person” is a total parade.


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What’s this all about, anyway? Being a homebody is totally green. I swear.

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Griffin H. Bat was very, very fat. She had WLS in 2007 and has gone from 314 pounds to 120ish, and often wonders where her mind went along with all that gooey adipose matter. Even with new guts, she still thinks about cupcakes and their confectionary goodness. She feels like a bear that has lost its stuffing, but she won't hesitate to tell you how lovely you are.

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