I am so stupid. Seriously. I torture myself in cruel and unusual ways. From setting unrealistic expectations on myself and others, to bringing women down instead of lifting women up (I’m also inspirational see), to the worst of the worst: Keeping clothes that don’t fit because I hope they will one day.
The one day section of my closet is completely out of control. Let me explain. I am the kind of person who will buy things and never try them on. I will justify to myself, the store employees, and any person who dare cross my method that I know my size. Obviously this is ridiculous, as my size is changing and there are different fits for different styles in different stores. I get it. I just hate trying things on, and if you need justification please refer to my post about Lulu. That being said, my closet was a shit show.
I took it upon myself to move things out and deliver them to goodwill. I have rid myself of things I never wear because of the style, I hate the way it hangs, or because it’s become too large. The second an item of clothing becomes slightly too big, I move it out to force myself to keep on track (this is another form of torture as a reasonable person would wait until she was an entire size smaller). Because of this, my options shrink on the regular. And this really limits my selection which makes it difficult to uphold my reputation as fashionista. #thestruggleisreal
That being said, I do not move out my one day section. The ODS features a few items that used to fit back in the good old days, and many items still tagged because when I purchased them I underestimated my size (which has caused my self esteem to shrink faster than my actual body). And those items sit in my closet every morning and mock me. The clothes actually make me feel so bad I don’t even try them on most of the time for a temperature check. They just sit in my closet, tags on, daring me to try to wear them.
I despise the ODS, yet every time I do a purge for Goodwill, the section is holding strong. In fact, I am concerned that somehow their ranks grow stronger by some demon clothes magic without me purchasing additional clothes that are too small for me.
But back to today. Unfortunately I haven’t done laundry in two solid weeks. This typically results in me wearing a dress. Because it has surpassed 115 degrees for the past two weeks, I have avoided dresses. There is nothing worse than holding a conversation and feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck, down your back, over your ass, and down your leg. Or even worse, swuss in a dress. (Swuss is the combination of two words. One is sweat. Got it? Good). I just can’t handle it. So this morning created the perfect storm for ODS to get a visit
I pulled out the black and white chevron pants. I bought them last summer and wore them with a baggy shirt. Last summer I had a muffin top with them because I could barely zip them. I have since talked to myself about dressing for your size, and in the future, I will not repeat this practice. Aside from the muffin, the pants were incredibly tight. They showed everything (in a bad way), and I am reasonably certain they gave me a camel toe. This morning, I felt confident.
I pulled the pants off the hanger and stared them down for a minute. Imagine a show down in the Wild West. Except not the live action version, but a cartoon version. Me vs Chevron Pants. I stared them down. They mocked me. I did not inform them this town isn’t big enough for the both of us. I took a deep breath and reminded myself you are not your pants size. (Adopt this mantra everyone)
I stepped into the pants one leg at a time. I was surprised that at my thighs there was no tugging or pulling. The pants were sliding right on. As I looked down to hook the clasp and zip the zipper, I saw space between the waistline and the chevron pants. Could it be? Would these pants move from the ODS to the Regular Wear Section? YES!!! It happened!
After a brief (okay it was 15 minutes long) celebration and a quick selfie, I left for work. This is the moment I’ve been training for. And by this moment I mean the obvious preparation to dress like a character on Mad Men
Tomorrow I can walk into my closet, look at my ODS, and tell it “I’m coming for you.”