For Christmas, my mother bought me a beautiful black suit with a snakeskin-esque pattern that could very easily transition from work to play. Size 16.
It didn't fit.
Then she gave me a backup gift, a gorgeous black and white tweed suit, size 16.
It didn't fit.
Two years ago, I celebrated Christmas as a size 12, approximately 187 pounds.
Yesterday I celebrated Christmas as (maybe? barely?) a size 16, exactly 236 pounds.
So I cried.
I thought I had it figured out, but no. The cycle continues.
