darkemeralds (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkemeralds) wrote2011-02-07 07:29 pm
darkemeralds) wrote2011-02-07 07:29 pm
Entry tags:
Ms Green Jeans
While I dawdle on a plateau as far as the scale is concerned, my clothes seem to indicate that I'm still heading steadily down the slope.
Last night I laid out several outfits from the back of my closet, then pressed everything neatly and put it all away, figuring that in another month or so I'd fit into most of it, and could photograph the clothes then.
On a crazy whim this morning, I thought I'd just try on one of the pairs of jeans.
They not only fit, but were already too big.
This stunned me so much that I couldn't talk myself out of wearing them to work even though they are, admittedly, rather ugly. (Seriously: avocado green jeans. I shouldn't have. Really.) The only reason I've hung onto them is that they Represent Something--the last good moment before my life went to hell in 2006.
These green jeans have been hanging in the back of my closet for five years saying, "Look, accept facts: you're never going to fit into me again, so just give me away and move on," while I said, "Noooooo! No! I want you! I hug you! I keep you! A tortured hope!"
And suddenly, in one day, they're saying, "Look, accept facts: you're never going to fit into me again, so just give me away and move on," on the other side of that divide. And oddly enough, part of me is still saying, "Noooooo!"
It's the strangest feeling! I've invested a lot in these ugly avocado green jeans over the last five years, and it never crossed my mind that I might actually become too small for them. I just wanted to fit into them again. Now, after one wearing, they're goin' in the donation bag.
Within another ten pounds, I will have entered body-size territory that I have never steadily inhabited. I passed through that country in my early 30s, and returned twice for flying visits before ballooning up again in bewilderment.
By the time I reach the end of this diet, I will be in territory that I set out from when refrigerators were avocado green. I have no adult frame of reference for life in that world at all.
It's very strange to think that nothing in my closet--perhaps not even shoes--will still fit me by then.
Last night I laid out several outfits from the back of my closet, then pressed everything neatly and put it all away, figuring that in another month or so I'd fit into most of it, and could photograph the clothes then.
On a crazy whim this morning, I thought I'd just try on one of the pairs of jeans.
They not only fit, but were already too big.
This stunned me so much that I couldn't talk myself out of wearing them to work even though they are, admittedly, rather ugly. (Seriously: avocado green jeans. I shouldn't have. Really.) The only reason I've hung onto them is that they Represent Something--the last good moment before my life went to hell in 2006.
These green jeans have been hanging in the back of my closet for five years saying, "Look, accept facts: you're never going to fit into me again, so just give me away and move on," while I said, "Noooooo! No! I want you! I hug you! I keep you! A tortured hope!"
And suddenly, in one day, they're saying, "Look, accept facts: you're never going to fit into me again, so just give me away and move on," on the other side of that divide. And oddly enough, part of me is still saying, "Noooooo!"
It's the strangest feeling! I've invested a lot in these ugly avocado green jeans over the last five years, and it never crossed my mind that I might actually become too small for them. I just wanted to fit into them again. Now, after one wearing, they're goin' in the donation bag.
Within another ten pounds, I will have entered body-size territory that I have never steadily inhabited. I passed through that country in my early 30s, and returned twice for flying visits before ballooning up again in bewilderment.
By the time I reach the end of this diet, I will be in territory that I set out from when refrigerators were avocado green. I have no adult frame of reference for life in that world at all.
It's very strange to think that nothing in my closet--perhaps not even shoes--will still fit me by then.