20th reunion is this weekend and my sister is getting married at the end of the month... both of these events means something evil to me- getting dressed up. If I could go everywhere in jeans and a big t-shirt or pajama pants and a tank the world would be heaven to me. I have been to just about every store looking for something I like, that fits, that covers my belly rolls and does not make me look like a grandma. Part of the frustration is that a mere 2 years ago I worked my ass off to get into a comfortable size 10 and I blew it. And everytime I have to get dressed up... even casual dress up... I beat myself up, knock myself down and then go to Starbucks for a Caramel Frap. See the cycle.