The issue with taking pictures of myself every day is I’m on trial every day. What’s good, what’s bad and what’s bigger than it’s supposed to be.
I live on the edge of the size chart. If I’m in a brand’s second-biggest size, I consider it a win. I’m a 6’4”, chicken-nugget-fed American boy doomed to covet clothes made for the more petite man.
Pants are always where it hits me hardest. If a shirt gets tight, I can blame the dryer. But no one in fashion washes their pants.
The waist on my normally roomy C.P. Company cargos has started to feel snug. A warning shot loud enough to send me retreating from my Our Legacy jeans.
Do I buy more clothes, bigger clothes, roomier clothes, or do I pull out the food scale and reopen my wardrobe?
So I’m quitting shopping.
Not because I’m falling out of love with clothes. I want to love how I feel in them. Sometimes you gotta work on your body.
I don’t have a plan or an end date. This isn’t turning into a weekly health journey update. And I’m definitely not renouncing my worldly possessions. There are things I want. Plenty. But buying a cashmere Stoffa polo to stash away for a day when I’m svelte and sexy is criminal.
My time will come. But until then, I miss my pants.
Sincerely,
Sam Port
Founder
Fare Filone