2010-06-15

If the dress fits...

Over the last couple of years, I've tried to do regular closet cleanings, both literally and metaphorically. I'm a hoarder by nature, and I can justify keeping every little bit of cloth and paper six ways to Sunday.

In some cases, my packrattery has benefitted me. If I hadn't held onto my high school diaries and furious scribblings, I would not be a regular performer at Mortified. But other things just have to go away, like clothes, shoes and grudges. Some are easier to toss than others.

Up until this weekend, I had two Karen Millen dresses hanging in my closet. Lovely dresses, but very form-fitting. They had been too snug for well over a year, but I kept telling myself, "I can lose a few pounds, and they'll fit again." These very words have kept many a closet needlessly overloaded.

I just couldn't bear to get rid of them. Their presence was a reminder that I was once - well - really fucking skinny, and their now-tightness filled me with a palpable disgust that both scared and thrilled me. I was a fat kid. I comforted myself with food for many years, and it's a pattern that I don't think I will ever completely vanquish, in the same way that I cannot say that I will NEVER drink again. The urge to fill holes will always be there. And for a period of time, about three years ago, I was thinner than I'd been in a long time.

Of course, three years ago I was also pretty miserable. I wasn't drinking, but I was on an epic binge of self-sabotaging behavior that would've most likely led to my picking back up if fate hadn't intervened. I won't go into the sordid details, but I was not happy. I was stressed out, lying to just about everyone that mattered, and not eating. But goddamn if I didn't weigh 119 pounds, which I'd never, EVER weighed in my adult life. And goddamn if I didn't look totally awesome in those dresses. I mean, I really did.

So there I was, in front of my closet on Sunday afternoon, and there were the dresses. I tried them on. Even with the couple of pounds I'd shed during my little no-sugar experiment a few weeks back, they were still too tight. Obviously, conspicuously too tight. I peeled them off, sighed, and started in on the mental rationalizations for keeping them. They're Karen Millen, for god's sake. They weren't cheap. A couple more pounds and they'll fit again.

But I thought, "Why do I want to fit into dresses that I wasn't happy in?" You know - if you want to lose a couple of pounds, fine. Lose them, and go buy you a dress that you can make happy memories in.

I folded them up, put them in a shopping bag, and brought them to the thrift store. Some lucky girl is going to get a couple of really, REALLY pretty Karen Millen dresses for under 20 bucks. She'll be thrilled.

lisamcc at 4:54 p.m.



2 comments so far
Wookiesgirl
2010-06-15 21:03:41
I love this... You know I've heard said in the rooms that the clutter in our homes is a representation of the clutter in our minds... But DAMN GIRL you should have sent ME the dresses! Seriously though I can identify with what you wrote in regards to being "off the beam". Sometimes taking the right actions just IS NOT exciting enough and I need to remember, even for a short time, how sick I really am! Glad you're cleaning house.. It's good for your soul!
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PK
2010-06-16 17:25:12
See, NOW I know what those fucking holes are. And what I was trying to fill them with. Er, yeah. Wookiesgirl, your boobs wouldn't have fit in those damn dresses and you know it!
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