Using clothes instead of the scale to measure weight loss

April 28, 2013

41.4 pounds to go

Since I’ve been dealing with plateauville for a month, this is the perfect time to switch gears and use my clothes instead of the scale to make me feel good about myself.  Oftentimes when I hit a wall with losing weight, this is the first back-up to jump into play.  Well, I didn’t lose any weight but look at how fabulous my ass looks in these jeans!  All is well.

If you google something like, “use your clothes to measure weight loss” all sorts of opinions will pop up.  The scale is too hard to deal with.  Scales are hard on your self esteem.  Clothes are easier.   Or: suck it up bitch and get on the scale.  There’s no concrete answer but there is clearly a scale camp vs. clothes camp.  It’s up to you which side you want to take up arms and defend.

In my opinion, using your clothes is a slippery slope.  Yes, when I’ve had a tough time of it this last month I will rock the skinny jeans or buy new shorts to prance in (they’re florescent pink hotpants in case you were wondering) to remind myself of how far I’ve come.   It is absolutely perfect for excuses.  “Well, I haven’t lost any weight this month but I’m pretty sure I gained muscle and fuck, just look how awesome my ass looks in these jeans.”  If you stare at my ass long enough you will actually forget I own a scale.  (It’s magic!)

I’m not saying to not be proud of my current weight loss, but it is a very convenient smoke and mirrors technique.  If I change the subject people forget about the first thing I was talking about.   It’s a bit of a psychological mindgame, but anyone who’s been on this path will eventually play it.

Down to the meat and potatoes of the argument, what makes switching from scale to clothes so bad in the first place?  The first question I have is, “are you wearing clothes that currently fit you?”  If you’re on a journey to weight loss, you’re probably like me and hang on to the too-big pants long after they should have been thrown away because it’s tough (and expensive) to let go.  If my fatpants I should have thrown out are a size 14 and I’m currently a 10-12 there is going to be a lot of room to grow.  If I lose 2 pounds I’m not going to tell very well and if I gain 2 pounds I probably won’t realize it either.  For me personally, (as I’ve mentioned in previous blogs) it takes 10 pounds of weight los to lose an inch in my waist so if I’m wearing clothes that are too big for me it’s easy to mask a gain or not realize a win.

“So what Bonnie?” you say.  “I wear clothes that fit me.”  Ok, fair enough.  Riddle me this, if you’ve had a tough week or two and those clothes are getting snug -- are you motivated to work out more so they are not uncomfortable or are you the type of person to say “fuck it” and buy a new pair of pants?  Depending on my mood and historical clothes buying I can really swing either way.  There is nothing more annoying than those pants that have always made me feel awesome suddenly biting me because I've put on a few pounds.  I have a skirt that’s adorable that I recently bought from Express but it’s just a smidge too small on me.  I’ll wear it to work but when I get home it’s like a superman quickchange to get out of it.  I hate that feeling of being uncomfortable.  Whether it’s too-small pantyhose that suck my legs like a vacuum cleaner or a blazer where I can’t lift up my arms or cross them.  And pants that create a serious muffin top?  Ouch.   To answer the question myself I typically shelve the pants that are biting me until I get back on track.   I’ve been guilty of shelving them for so long by the time I actually try them on again they’re swimming on me.

Getting back to the infernal ‘what is my dress / pant size?” question from my Mythbusters size 12 blog, we can’t even be sure if we’re really wearing a true size or a vanity sized item.  There’s a certain pride that comes with “Oh, these ol’ pants?  They’re a size 10” that I can’t let go.  Then deep in the back of my mind I know that half my clothes in my closet are 12’s and they fit fine too even though I’ve lost about 9 pounds since that entry.  So, to me, this means using your clothes only as a measure is extremely dangerous as there is a lot of room to grow.

Getting into the niggling details of fit when losing weight, there are four major stages I’ve noticed with a dress size:

            1) It doesn’t fit.  (you can’t get the zipper up / buttons closed)

            2) I am a squished sausage.  (I’m in the pants, but it’s only technical)

            3) It fits.

            4) It’s loose.

One carrot I will throw to the ‘use your clothes’ argument is when the clothes are in the ‘it fits’ category, I can tell from the fit as little as a 2 pound swing whether I have gained or lost weight.  I’ve even experienced it during this plateau / gain in the last month.  I was pissed that I put on weight even though I was exercising / hitting my calorie goals yadda yadda yadda my new awesome butt jeans which fit perfectly got a little snug.  And now they’re not anymore.

So, young grasshopper, there are both sides of the argument with scale vs. clothes.  Can you throw your scale in a burning lake of fire and solely turn to your clothes as a measure?  Sure, but be very very careful.   If your clothes measure is amiss (i.e. too big) you are in the red-line danger zone.  Ultimately, the scale can be devastating to my self esteem so it is very tempting to abandon it altogether and go to excusetown with my clothes.  I think everyone who’s ever tried to lose weight has come to this crossroad -- my recommendation is to stick with the scale.  It may be a love-hate relationship, but it is essential.