Taking Care of Myself


When I was young, it didn't matter that I was a bit short and a bit fat and a bit blind, a flick of a fabulous head of hair seemed to go a long way. I was never a looker, but still it didn't take much to feel I was taking good care of myself. And I had nice hair, if I may say so myself.

It's not like that any more.

I try to go to the gym not so I can get in shape or feel great, but only to delay the inevitable, and to prevent feeling even worse.

I used to need moisturizer only as an emergency measure; one application usually fixed the most dire dryness. Now I'm horrified if I skip one day; my hands look like Motueka tidal flat at high noon.

So I decided, while I sat in the sauna in the hotel in Auckland last week, that I needed to take better care of myself. Much better care.

I decided to make a concerted effort to care for my skin. I bought a giant loofah mitten (again) and a nice cake of soap; I always travel with two or three moisturizers so I was good there, and I used them all rigorously and generously, until our room smelled a cross between a tropical garden and a candy shop. Back home, I now have several loofah mittens, some nice soap, and about two or three years' worth of moisturizers, so I'm continuing to use them all every day.

I decided to clean out my closet once again, and throw away any item that look as tired as I feel. And I am allowing myself to invest in a pair of shoes; the kind that look like upmarket (leather?) sneakers that must be oh-so-comfortable to walk around town in. On days I'm not going to the gym, I shall wear those.

Finally I decided I have to get fitted for a bra. The last time I was fitted was shortly after my 30th birthday, in another country in another body. Today I was so embarrassed I was perspiring profusely, and I must have tried, oh, at nearly 25. My girth is too great for the size of my packages, and New Zealand women are generously endowed the other way around, so the shops don't have a lot in my size. I don't like frills and decorations, and desire black or beige. Plus, the saleswoman was young, slim and pesky, I mean, perky. But we persevered and I came out of Foxy Lady with three that fit like, well, a glove. At least no more puckering cups.

I am exhausted.


  1. Cosy shoes and bras and a decent moisturiser are necessities of life!

    I'm also an unusual size and I learned long ago that it didn't matter how many bras in the shop fit, if they did fit I had to buy them on the spot. It's such a great feeling to have new ones that feel good, isn't it?

  2. Yup, I know all about exercising to keep ageing at bay. The wonderful thing is that it works. Instead of getting mad that I have to spend all this time, I try (not always successfully!!) to be thankful that I know about exercise, I even am sometimes grateful that I broke my ankle, for it was physical therapy that taught me the amazing power of exercise. And yes, having clothes that fit you well and that you feel good in, this is very very important no matter what your age. Keep up the good work!

  3. Geodyne, you said it. And that's one thing I won't worry about the price too much in the future. I'm just thankful the cups were... urrr... the wrong shapes for me most of my life, instead of the other way around!

    Peg, it's more like hard slog, but it appears I'll make three workouts this week. Phew.

  4. I switched to camisoles with those stretchy bra-like things in them because bras became so uncomfortable. It's not a fit thing, it's having that elasticized thing around one's upper middle that I couldn't stand any longer. Give cami's a try!

  5. Yeah, it wounds good. I might the next time I can muster enough courage to enter Foxy Lady, Connie.

    Bras separate/distinguish my requisite blubbers from the optional, lower blubbers, and I'm trying to picture myself in a cami and wondering if I'd look like a barrel. Hummm.

    The trick is to find the right kind like you mention. Curiouser and curiouser...

  6. ha- we live parallel lives sometimes. I did this last week too. 5 years of boneless nursing bras, and I FINALLY overcame my eluctance and went to Myer to be fitted. Came away with 2 bras that fit better than anything I would have chosen- but gez what a palaver!

  7. Well, good for you, then, Taueret! Me, I went to the gym today (yay, three workouts this week), so I'm back in my old gym bra all day that the svelte lady told me not to live in. Tomorrow, I'll wear my new one.

  8. Since I was gifted D cups at the tender age of 16, good bras are a necessity as is underwire. But you better believe the first thing that comes off when I enter my house is the bra. hehe... Good for you keep going your doing great.

  9. Honestly? Deep End, I'm kind of envious. My mom always had nice size girls for a Japanese woman of her age, and she also has good posture. So I naturally thought I, too, would one day be like her. Wrong! It's only the fat around mine that developed. But then my sister, she's svelte but flat, so apparently neither of us followed in her cup steps.


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