I’ve gone beyond large and may be on my way, if I don’t watch it, to the end of the line—size sumo. That, in any case, is the dreadful future previewed to me whenever I enter the Japanese shop Muji.
I love Muji for the simplicity of its designs and the wintry neutral colors, from clothes to furniture. Everything looks unpretentious, though rather pricey, good for browsing and buying only in bargain season.
Their clothes have what my cousin Ramon Antonio calls “gusot mayaman,” and they are downsized for the slim and dainty Japanese woman. The furniture has the same character— cozy and lived-in, perfect for limited condominium space.
Ultimatum
I must have plumped up only in the last five years, and the holidays haven’t helped either. I used to think everybody could still look good as long as they wear the correct size. Muji refuses to play along; instead, it gives me an ultimatum, a most powerful incentive to lose weight.
We dropped by during the holidays and found me a long gray collarless T-shirt dress marked down to affordable price. Excited to have found a large, I tried it on. It felt a little too snug in the usual places. I asked for an extra large—there’s such a thing, you know.
Well, not in Muji. “Large is our biggest,” the salesperson replied with sympathetic finality.
A personal tragedy! How very unwomanly, not to say un-Asian, of me to have allowed myself to stray from medium, my fighting size for the longest time, into large, and to now find myself in the limbo of sizes beyond large. I certainly could use some help and, since I don’t scare easily, I need something beyond my reflection in the mirror in order to get on the emergency task of reforming myself, not only for looks but more so for health, being more senior than very possibly most others.
I needed tough love and Muji gave it to me. If only all clothes designers and makers stopped at large and left the obese no choice but to wear tents, that should be decisive.
I’m myself fighting my way back to a large and, with a little more effort, I may re-attain medium. I remember how easy it was to buy clothes in any style when I was a medium. I wore medium until age 70, not very long ago, and have scarcely backslid.
Complete checkup
Everybody naturally looks good as a medium; it’s worth shooting for at whatever cost, except by lipo. But, according to my dermatologist, no matter what diet and how much exercise one gets on, lipo is the only way to lose those flaps.
I’m still aiming for medium. But first I have to finish all my Christmas chocolates and leftover ham and cheeses, and the tikoy are already coming in, ahead of the Chinese New Year. I’d be recklessly irresponsible, however, if I don’t get on the road to medium right away.
Trust my relentless friend, Doctor Chit, who won’t stop until I address all my health problems one at a time, and as quickly as symptoms appear, with not a moment to lose.
“Malay mo—God may be giving you time but, instead of acting on it, you let yourself go unchecked. Do not trivialize your polyp, it’s a growth; have it removed, puede ba? I will accompany you. Hold your hand, if you like. And please put yourself in the care of a gastroenterologist for your diverticulitis. It may not require surgery, but it needs managing.”
Doctor Chit is right, of course, especially with all the overeating of the season. So I’m scheduling a complete checkup, and taking her offered hand to hold.
Grievous default
I had this theory that I could escape getting sick by avoiding doctors. Alas, in many cases, it proved a grievous default. Senior time is precisely the time when our bodies show us vulnerabilities that, gone un-addressed, could hasten our exit.
I’m a sort of a self-contradictory character. As a housekeeper, I get leaks plugged and damages repaired as soon as they appear. I do it for our car and our appliances, too. Indeed, one must put up a definitive resistance to one’s deteriorating health, and show a genuine determined interest to stay healthy, and not allow oneself to sink slowly, but surely, in resigned surrender.
It’s the way to express gratitude for the greatest gift of all— life, preferably in medium, but large will do.
In matters of health and looks, size definitely matters.