Wednesday, April 14, 2010
I spent an hour today trying on every item in my closet and facing the music. You see, I'm what I like to call a 'hopeful shopper'. I refuse to buy clothes in my size, because I plan to lose weight, and what's the point of buying clothes that aren't going to fit in two months?
So instead, I buy the items that I really like in a size or two too small, because 'they'll fit me in a month or two'. And then I continue to wear the same crappy, outdated, or overworn clothes that I've BEEN wearing for far too long. And I continue to look in the mirror and be unhappy with what I see, not necessarily because I'm unhappy with my body image (though that's a big part of it), but because my clothes are just plain DEPRESSING.
So I eat, and sulk, and eat some more. And then I look at my closet, full of beautiful, too-small clothes, and have a chocolate bar to make myself feel better. And then I start gaining weight again, until absolutely NOTHING in my closet fits me anymore, much less the clothes I bought for that distant 'someday'.
But today I went through my overstuffed closet, item by item. About a quarter of the clothes hanging there were either utterly outdated, or far too young for me- think of what a 15 year-old girl would have worn four or five years ago, and that's a good portion of my closet right there. A large chunk of what was hanging there I had bought on a whim- a floaty top in a shimmery exotic print, a form-fitting shirt with a drapey turtleneck, a blouse that looks astonishingly like the upper portion of a naughty maid's costume (and bares enough cleavage to compete with one)- clothes that I had bought for the person I wanted to be, not the person that I was. Okay, the maid shirt I have no clue WHAT I was thinking, but let's not go there.
A good half of the items in my closet, shirts, pants, and coats alike, were at least two sizes too small. They're the clothes that I can remember trying on again and again over the last few years, thinking 'Maybe this time.', before taking one look in the mirror, hanging them back up, and leaving them there for a few more months.
Every one of those items, except for the one motivation outfit I have hanging on my closet door, are now in a box. I have taken a solemn vow not to touch that box until I lose another 15 lbs. Many of the items, like that flowy top, I have no plan of trying on until I feel that I'm kind of person who would WEAR them. My closet now holds a scant dozen shirts, about four pairs of jeans, several tank tops and sleep pants that I use for pajamas, and two pairs of sweatpants.
And yes, the naughty maid shirt is in my box of clothes to wear someday. I doubt I'll ever wear it out, but it's fun to put it on and laugh!