What's in a few pounds here or there?

There is nothing like a wedding to make you freak out about the way you look, especially if it’s you who is getting married. I’m bad enough at friend’s weddings. It takes a very secure woman to not worry about whether their dress will fit or whether they will look their ‘best’, especially when you have 130 people taking photos of you, not to mention ones you have paid an extortionate amount for.

Women spend tens, hundreds or thousands on their appearance for their wedding day according to Soundvision. Add up everything that makes you look 'pretty' and you have one hell of an eye watering beauty list.

Like Popeye, I take a certain optimistic yet pragmatic approach to my looks: I am what I am and yes, I do (in the main) very much like the way that I look. My body and I have had a checkered relationship. Like sisters who spend most of their time together arguing, we understand each other’s advantages and faults and accept them as part of our daily life.

On some days my thighs and I are not on speaking terms. When I lie on my back with my legs against a wall above me however, I admire them greatly. I am not thin. Neither am I fat. I would describe myself as ‘tall but solid with fat in the right places’. BF would describe me as having body dysmorphia and that I look lovely the way that I am. I don't believe him wholly.

Solid. Makes you think of a cow, doesn’t it. I am definitely solid. M always said I could one day be ‘willowy’ but I’ve never quite managed it. I liked food too much and exercised too little.

Thanks to an enjoyable, if unsuccessful, career in filmmaking, I have a lot of wonderful friends who can do wonderful surface things to make you look just wonderful. Mrs MW is doing my adjustments for my dress, P (who I lived with years ago and who used to work for a very famous London Salon) is doing my hair. I’m ok at my own make-up and have the added bonus of getting to keep it all afterwards having done a morning course at the Coquettes on a Groupon offer. So all in all, I am confidant that the facial area and the over body part will look good on the day.

It’s the bit underneath that has me worried right now.

It was only when I went for my dress measurements (bridal shops measure you to decide what dress size they will order about seven years, sorry seven months before your wedding) that the true desperation of the situation sank in.

I knew that I had put weight on since going out with BF. Before we met I was at my slimmest; almost-but-not-quite willowy. Then I started eating and keeping up with a man and it all went south. Before I knew it I had happy fat, definite love handles and was kicking myself a bit. And as anyone who has put on weight will know, as you get heavier the urge to exercise lessens. A true paradox.

So I am standing in the charming dressing room at the lovely Ellie Sanderson where I bought my dress, in my underwear thinking, ‘my god, I’m sure I got RID of that a year or so ago but apparently it’s back. And it’s worse’. Accacia has tied a ribbon around my waist as a reference point (or what there is of it – it sort of is merging with my hips and chest) and is now measuring me gently with small, cold hands and shouting out awfully high numbers to her assistant. My friend N (Girl friend of the Best Man) has come with me for moral support and can hear every word. I’m feeling vaguely embarrassed. I’m also quite mottled as it’s January and cold outside.

After I put my clothes out and emerge feeling like I did when I picked up my first round of A-Level module results ( I got a C and an E), it turns out, I am a couture 18. I feel like I got an F. F for Feminism just Died a bit inside me that I even care. Turns out I am not so happy with my body after all. You can parrot on all you want about wedding dresses being ‘ridiculous’ sizes, but this (and the sight of myself in my under roo’s in that unflatteringly massive mirror) has done something to me. Something has shifted in that dressing room. And I don’t mean my side fat.

We meet the boys for a drink and I am despondent as I sip my wine. Not as much as poor N who has to listen to me whitter on about how fat I am for about six streets. The pork scratchings turned to ashes in my mouth that night.

But I am never low for long. Accacia has said that we can either get me the dress that will fit my waist NOW but will be massive in the bust or I can aim to loose enough weight to go one size lower. That means loosing 3 inches around my waist. That is actually quite a lot of inches – a mountain to climb at that stage but you think that six months is ages. Turns out it isn’t.

I ring Mrs MW to ask her professional dress making advice – go with the one that fits now or one which is a size smaller? Professionally, her advice is, ‘Sod it, go for the small one and eat less.’ So I do. This is apparently against all other professional wedding advice (see this article from Bridal Guide) but life is just not worth living if you don’t take a few risks. This is what I was telling myself when I ordered it.

So here I am several months later, one gym membership in my wallet and with my dress fitting next Saturday morning. The dress that I am hoping will do up, let alone fit.

I can’t say that I am skinny; I am not. I can’t say that the weight has ‘fallen off’ because it hasn't. I have however been slowly toning up and loosing weight. I have also lost 2.5 inches from around my waist and am ½ an inch away from that 31 inch waist band.

Looking good is a pressure but honestly, I have come to the conclusion that you should only do any of this rubbish if you want to. While I may have decided to spent £150 on some random wrap thing which I have always secretly wanted to do an am using this as an excuse (Contour Wrap – I am very excited!), it doesn't mean that you have to. Unless you want to. If you don’t want to have a professional manicure, then don’t have one! If your dress fits when you try it on, don’t have it altered. What is the point in spending £400 on a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes in white that you will never wear again (thanks Frugality - top tip!)?  

Finally, here are my top ten, 100% biased, unprofessional top tips to future brides, bridesmaids, grooms or just people who would like to loose some weight and get fit without going mad or over doing it in the process:

   1)  Gyms are really expensive! My god they are so fricking expensive. In my local area, I have the choice between the County Council Gyms, LA Fitness, David Lloyd. Shop around. We wound up choosing DW because they had the combo of a pool, gym and classes, were around the corner and frankly, were the cheapest. At £39 a month for a 6 month contract, they are a bargain compared to other gyms pricing up at £60-80 a month on a year long contract. It is worth it. I am sure you can do it on your own but there is something about ‘getting my moneys worth’ which keeps me going….

2)  Get a personal Trainer. I mean it. I was never one of those people who thought having a personal trainer was worth the money and then I found Simon. Simon is a genius. He is encouraging, pushes me hard without making me want to cry and is very reasonable price wise – find out some prices and they will surprise you. Plus I get to say ‘Simon says’ at least once a day to BF. Get someone you feel comfortable with and who understands what your goals are. They will even work you out a diet plan. It is 100% worth the effort and cost.

3)  Go to classes. I love classes!! Zumba! Boxercise! Bodycombat! So much better than trudging around the machines in a boring routine, they will work every inch of you and make sure that you are toned all over instead of just doing loads of cardio. You can also work at your own pace and get what you want out of them.

 4) Just stop eating shit. Seriously. No crisps, no cake, no biscuits, no jam. Do you need ice cream on those strawberries? OK, you do, but do you need that much? Had a long day and need a glass of wine? NO! You don’t! Just by cutting out crap you’ll find you seriously help yourself along, especially if you can give up booze. I actually cut out sugar. Seriously. I make my own muesli with oats, dried fruit, some flaked almonds and some truvia now. Didn’t see that one coming….

5)  If the diet sounds too good to be true, it totally is. Do I think raspberry keytones have made ANY difference to my weight? No. Has drinking buckets of green tea made me thinner? No. Not that I don’t take them. BF calls them ‘expensive wee’. What has made me thinner is eating brekkie, not snacking, having salad and chicken for lunch and an uber healthy meal in the evening. It’s depressing. I hate it. But it works. My Fitness Pal is a free app and will track your calories and also your exercise routine. Plus you can make rude comments on all of your friend’s pages. 

6)  Measure inches. Sod the weight. It’s an indication of nowt as BF would say. Keep an idea of it sure, but if you’re doing what I’m doing and aiming for visits to the gym at least 4 times a week, then you are not going to loose much weight. What you are going to do is loose fat and gain muscle. Which is good. Read this article on Muscle Vs Fat. Basically not only does muscle take up less space and look better but it also means you burn more calories just doing nothing by increasing your metabolic efficiency. BONUS! So any girls out there who think weights are for boys, think again!

7) Be realistic. My bingo wings are not going to go, however much Boxercise and Bodycombat I do between now and the wedding. Sad but true. Do I worry? No! I am just going to have to accept that I have slightly plump arms. At least I HAVE arms.

8)  Loose it slow and keep it off. And don’t stress about it. It won’t go any faster for you fretting (sorry to all of my friends who have constant weight updates – FYI, I am fretting a lot). Your future husband doesn’t give a shit if you have lost weight. I almost guarantee he didn’t propose to you just to have you turning into some food crazed dragon woman. He liked you how you were before enough to buy it. Loosing weight is for yourself and yourself alone.

9)   You’re going to look epic no matter what. Really, you are.

10) Don’t believe everything you read. BF is a scientist and I am not. He never accepts things for what they are at face value whereas I do. When I say ‘potatoes are bad for you’ he comes back with this article which actually proves that is tosh. Yes, potatoes are not bad for you! Stop saying they are. Imagine what else you are told is going to help and is actually merely causing you misery! Do some proper research when people tell you to ‘cut’ things out. Mainly it’s about moderation, not prohibition.

 This has been a slight deviation from the subject but needless to say, I am very nervous about fitting in my dress. Please wish me luck for a week’s time when I go to try it on and I will be keeping up the good work by heading to a quick boxercise class tonight before leaving to visit my parents and try to avoid drinking too much wine. Sad times.

I just hope I can keep it up long enough.