I had several objectives for cleaning out my closet.
- Get my summer clothes out
- Remove clothes that no longer fit
- Free up some hangers
- Eliminate the huge piles of pants/sweaters/shorts that keep falling on me
- Determine if I need to buy some new clothes
I frequently go through my closet and get rid of things I don't wear, but I rarely go through and get rid of the beloved articles that may not be suitable to wear in public. This time, I didn't have a "donate" pile. I had a "good-bye" pile. It included one of my favorite over sized T-shirts that I've been sleeping in for about 8 years now. It was a sad parting. But, even harder was adding my last pair of "mom" jeans. They are hideous and too baggy, but they are the most comfortable jeans I've ever owned. I rubbed the worn knees one last time, and gave them the heave ho. I'll miss them, but I'm pretty sure Andy won't.
I also encountered a few items of clothing that I like, but due to age and gravity, I just can't pull off any more. Really, cleaning my closet should not also include the pain of recognizing that some things just aren't so perky anymore. Not even a good bra could save a few of the v-neck tops. Sigh.
As I worked to the end of the closest I came across that skirt. You know, the one article of clothing in your closet that you love dearly but that hasn't fit you in a very long time. The one you pull out and stare at thinking someday I'll be able to wear you again, then you tuck back in and forget about for a year.
I've been working very hard and have lost a decent amount of weight. Enough weight that I feel like I have a whole new wardrobe now that I can fit into tons of stuff. I know how much I weighed the last time that skirt fit, and I'm just about there. So, I pulled it out, undid the hooks, and gave it a try. I held my breath, hoping it would fit. And you know what?
And when I exhaled, it was even worse.
I'm two pounds heavier now than when I bought that skirt, but it's still inches too small around my waist. INCHES ladies. As I looked at my tummy in the mirror I was forced to recognize that age has not only dragged down my boobs, it's also puffed out my middle. OMG, I'm turning into a puffer fish!
I suppose I could have just excepted the changes and added the skirt to my trash pile, but I didn't. I hung it right back up. And I'll try that stupid skirt on again. If it never fits again, so be it, but I'm sure as hell not ready to give up on it yet.
And who knows, maybe by the time it fits again, the silly thing might actually be back in style again.