The Great Purge and Restoration

September 1 was the great purge; the migration of the spring clothes to the attic. No longer is my closet filled with white, pink, light green, yellow and baby blue clothes. These are replaced with the bright browns, greens, and oranges. I hoped bringing them forth from the attic would somehow hasten the coming of cooler weather. I can always hope.

The spring clothes have been blessed for their long winter's hibernation, folded neatly, and placed in their tubs. The tubs have been returned to their resting place. And like cocoons, when I open those tubs next mid March I will find those bright colors. They will cheer me up and remind me that spring is coming with its warm weather. (I know, be careful what you wish for.) 

As I piled up the spring and summer clothes, I remembered the expert advice (from someone on some  TV show - based in the unreality zone)  - "If you haven't worn it in a year - toss it." Convincing myself that I really don't  have any sentimental attachment to many of these threads, I considered this as I packed up the spring clothes. There were shirts, skirts, and summer sweaters that I have to admit I have not worn in a year (or 2). So I threw these on a pile to be "tossed". As I sorted, folded, unfolded, hung up and removed from hangers, the "tossed" pile  steadily grew.

This year I noticed a change in my clothes. I took them from their storage containers, laid them on my bed, and examined them for any holes (those pesky moths) or stains. Then I tried a few of the skirts on just to lighten my spirits. Alas, instead of the thrill of new clothes (well new to me - I have a short memory) it was the agony of tight zippers. Something had caused my skirts to shrink. They seemed to be a size smaller. Horrors! The same thing had happened with my pants. It was the case for all of them. 

I thought back, over the many years this had never happened. How could the elements effect my clothes this year but not in years past. Then it dawned on me, the obvious, the elements had not effected my clothes, the elements had effected me. Mid life had taken its toll. Those three pounds had settled in an unfortunate place. And it was not pretty. 

My motto has always been when my clothes got too tight it was time to lose weight not buy new clothes. This was my sign. Well, this was my sign to either lose weight or adjust my motto. 

For now, my fall and winter clothes are neatly placed in the closet, organized by color. Yes, for several weeks I will be anal enough to keep that system going. After that I will question the wisdom of that folly. Whatever. Today my closet is full of fall colors that mirror the hues of fall leaves. 

As I put the final spring clothes in their tubs, I looked at the pile to be discarded. Seeing a tub only half full, I just threw the unwanted clothes in it and sealed the top. I put it away with the other tubs, all the same color and size. I'll deal with "tossing" clothes next spring - what did that "expert" know after all. She/He must not be from the south, because down here we "toss" very little. We hold onto everything as if the spirits of family members who predecease us will rise from the grave and haunt us for abandoning our past. 

Dishes and Denial

They (who ever "They" are) say our 60s are the new thirties, then, Lord, that means I have to do 40 all over again. 30 (the first time around) I handled with ease. By 40 I was a basket case. My 5 foot 2 inch frame was carrying 189 pounds. However in my mind, I still weighed a healthy 125 The airlines were just making their seats much smaller.  The clothing manufacturers were resizing their lines larger. It was ridiculous. However, when what once was a size 6 was now a 14, what was up with that?

Now every woman wants to shop. And if one cannot get satisfaction out of buying clothes then one's attention must go elsewhere. Mine turned to dinnerware. After all,  dinner plates were always going to be relatively the same size, as were salad and bread plates. Besides instead of "dressing" me, I could "dress" our dinner table. Each evening it could take on a different personality to match the food or the season or my mood. (Yes, I had 4 eggplant purple plates for those days when I was not especially "cheery".)

Who needed a new frock when they could have a set of dishes with whimsical dots on them. Or imagine the joy of finding a set of six over sized formal plates for those rare meals when the crab claws or lobster would not quite fit on the standard dinner plate. There was the cheer joy of stumbling upon a set of small Mexican plates that were perfect for alfresco dining on the patio in the summer. Of course I had to have that set of cobalt blue plates I found in that second hand store that matched the blue in the colorful Mexican plates if I ever wanted to set a table with the smaller plates sitting atop the solid colored ones. It went on and on.

The madness came to a grinding halt when I watched a video of a reunion picnic I had attended. Who was this squatty woman dressed in this God awful baggy outfit? Oh . . . My . . . God . . . that was me. As I caught my breath and realized this is what I really looked like, another revelation struck me. The size 16 Petite was not an oxymoron. As I emerged from my haze of denial I knew airplane seats had not gotten THAT much smaller. And, if anything, clothing manufacturers wanted women to think they were smaller that they truly were.

Fast forward several years and 60 something pounds lighter, I was discussing this revelation with my oldest daughter. I was laughing at my refusal to be aware of the reality of my condition. "The clothes," I told her, "My God the clothes I wore and thought they were so becoming. They were disgusting."

I went on to tell her about my giving up on shopping for clothes. "After all", I said, "Nothing I found was attractive. But I still shopped." I left it there.

Months later, my daughter wanted to do something in our kitchen which required more space. Since several of the shelves we used were on wheels, I suggested we just roll into another room while she worked on her project. As we were moving the shelves, she laughed, "I had no idea we had so many dishes. Where did all of these come from?"

"Remember when I was so overweight and I told you shopping for clothes was miserable."

She nodded.

"Well, I bought dishes instead. And looking at these shelves, it is a good thing I started losing weight. I'm not sure where we could have put any more."