Sunday, July 02, 2006

“I feel better when I have more weight on me." - Angelina Jolie



This? Is a trunk.
It lives at the end of my bed.

In this trunk are the clothes I cannot bear to part with, that just don't fit me currently.

They range from just-a-little-too-snug-for-real-comfort to not-able-to-go-over-my-hips to ohmigod-who-are-we-kidding, I-can't-fit-ONE-leg-in-these.

There are blouses with arms that are too tight;
there are t-shirts that are too short, exposing the belly.
Oh, the scary, scary belly.

There are muffin-top jeans.

There are pencil skirts that would look more like those chubby crayons preschoolers use.

There are shorts that are way too short for my body at the moment. Even if I could get them on, and buttoned, I would never expose unsuspecting people to the horror that are my thighs.

There's a bathing suit in there; I have exchanged it for a swim burqa for the summer.

There is even a dead-sexy red dress H bought me on our honeymoon that I will NEVER fit into again.

I have gotten rid of bags and bags of clothes; these are the ones I cannot bear to part with.

Some because I just love them: the red suede skirt, the French blue button-down, the grey silk slip.

There are some clothes that are the workhorses of my job wardrobe: straight grey or beige skirts, long black skirts, white blouses.

Some are running clothes that I don't fit into anymore. How bad is it when you don't fit into your workout clothes?

There's the straight grey wool knee-length skirt from Old Navy, with just a bit of stretch to it, that is a SIZE SIX. I KNOW it was a labeling error but I don't care. It once fit me beautifully, and made me look and feel thin and glamorous.
I could wear it with virtually anything - a navy silk blouse and black pumps and my silver choker for work; a black wool turtleneck and knee-length black boots for a wedding (or a funeral); a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and my black loafers for a casual Sunday dinner at my in-laws. I refuse to get rid of it. It's a size six, people! It once FIT ME. I may be more sentimental about that skirt than I am about my wedding photos or my babies' first shoes.

I weeded my closet the other day, pulling out everything that didn't fit.
I was left with the trunk full of clothes that don't fit me, and a closet very sparse in clothes that do: a blue-and-white print skirt; a pale blue linen skirt; a pair of brown linen capris; a pair of jeans; a pair of flat-front khakis (unfortunately with paint on them), an abstract print turquoise-and-black dress, and some neutral V-necked T-shirts.

If this doesn't motivate and inspire me to lose some weight, nothing will. Because it's gonna get mighty cold come fall, and I will have NOTHING to wear.

And NOBODY wants that now, do we?

10 comments:

Cherry Rolfe said...

I know the feeling. They say we only wear 20% of our wardrobe, but as 90% doesn't fit I am a bit stuck. I hate buying things in the size I am, but unless I do - and soon - I will be wearing the same dress everyday and washing it every night!!!!!

Carolyn said...

Where can I buy that swim burqua?

Surfing Free said...

yep, all mother's have that crazy wardrobe that has pre-baby clothes, clothes a little bit bigger for the start of the pregnancy, maternity clothes, clothes to wear just after the baby, and the one size large clothes when you realise the baby weight won't move.
The sad thing is I used to complain about being fat BEFORE I had kids and I was a size 8 in Australia, a size 6 in the US. I really can't have been fat but I spent a lot of time thinking I was.

Lazy cow said...

I'm so not sentimental about clothes. If I buy something new, something old goes. My wedding dress is still hanging in my mum's wardrobe, not drycleaned, or packed in tissue. I just don't care.
Don't be too hard on yourself, that schizophrenic still-breastfeeding body needs time to settle down.

Lazy cow said...

I didn't mean *you* were schizo, arghhh. I meant breast feeding mothers in general.

Katya said...

I know what you mean. I have this green suit I interviewed in once that I really felt good in -- I haven't been able to fit into it for years and years but I cannot bear to part with it.

Surfing Free: I'm like you. I spent all of my life when I wasn't fat thinking that I was. Now that I am really fat, I know that I was delusional then. :) I wore a size 10 for goodness sakes and if I'd worn any smaller, I'd have been a skelton.

blackbird said...

Relics they are. And you should keep them...although, I'd be happy to take that gray skirt off your hands.

(I hope you are laughing hard right now, cause I haven't seen size six in a while, and height-wise? we both know I could wear it floor length.)

jess said...

My boyfriend just commented on how many skirts I have in my closet & how he hadn't seen me wear them, and I said yeah, cause most of them don't fit anymore. And I don't even have the baby excuse.

I love the idea of a swim burqua. I just go for shorts and a tank top. At least at the beach. That probably would look a little silly at a public pool.

Suse said...

I can see I'm going to have to arm wrestle blackbird for the grey skirt.

PS. At least you have cute shoes.

jess said...

I can't seem to comment on your newest post, but I wanted to ask if you've read "John, Paul, George and Ben" - your boys might get a kick out of it.