"tiny" (Whole50, Day 19)

On Sunday, I had a long technical rehearsal for The MoMologues, after which Panda and I got gussied up and drove from Gilroy to San Jose History Park for Silicon Valley Shakespeare Company's annual volunteer appreciation night.

I wore the Kaylee corset I bought at Comic-Con this past summer. Remember it?

It was a fun night and I got to reconnect with a few awesome people from my time working on The Comedy of Errors. It made me excited for the 2016 season auditions (which occur this Saturday, and for which I need to find a song...ursghlrdeflkgh). My lovely friend Kiera won the special award as Intern of the Year, and it was announced she'll be returning in 2016 as ASM for Julius Caesar.

I wish I'd thought to have someone take a full-length photo of me. I'm proud of the Kaylee cosplay I'm cobbling together. One nice photo was taken, of me and Angie (always resplendent but especially so in an emerald PinUpCouture dress):

I don't know why I can't just make a normal face when I get my picture taken.

With the corset on (which I'd adjusted myself - I am very pleased with myself about this) I was able to notice a pretty dramatic difference in my waist and upper body size. Renaissance and reformation-style clothing has always suited me (strapped in on top, voluminous skirts) and I'm looking forward to experimenting more with clothing and costuming as my fitness improves and I have more time to devote to clothing.

Anyway, there was nothing at this shindig I could eat on my Whole50, and I hadn't had anything since brunch that day (for Jen's birthday!). So after the party, Panda and I went to Safeway to grab me a couple of things to eat at home. I still had my costume on (although I'd thrown a grey sweatshirt over the top) and as we went through the checkout line, I mentioned to the checker that I really liked her sparkly black shrug. 

"Thanks!" she said. "I've had it probably ten years. It was a...I think a Lane Bryant or a Torrid or something."

"Oh, I love those," I said. And it's true - I've shopped at both of those stores, which cater mostly to plus-sized girls, many times.

She stopped what she was doing and gave me a strange (distrusting?) look. "Really?" she said.

I didn't know what to say. What kind of a weird ass response is that?

She continued, looking me up and down. "You're tiny."

Well THAT stopped me cold. In the course of my life, whatever my weight has been, I don't think anyone has ever, EVER called me "tiny." I tried to pretend to laugh, but it came out as a weird chortle-cough-awkward noise-thing, and I scrambled some words together: "You're very kind to say so. It's just, um, I'm wearing a corset so it's..um. Yeah I'm not."

Smooth.

But it seemed to relax her a bit. "Oh you got a waist on you, that makes sense. Yeah, my mom has a beautiful figure like that. I wish I could have her figure, but you know, I'm chubby..." and I smiled and realized there wasn't a good response for that...in the past I have always been able to voice my sympathy. And I am sympathetic (I was around this lady's size when I started this whole thing.) But nothing I can say to her would bring that sentiment across in a genuine way.

We chatted a bit more as she rang me up, about her old gig working at the Bed Bath and Beyond and how once one of her checkers accidentally rang someone up for like $13,000 in duvets accidentally. She wished us a blessed night as we left.

I'm not tiny. Even if I lose all the weight I want to, I won't ever be tiny. My bone structure and my height would preclude that. And even if that's what I wanted, it didn't feel like a compliment.

Was it ever a compliment? Even when I was bigger and all I wanted was to be tinier?

I don't know.