I’m Obviously No Cinderella

Fashion is not my thing.  I have never really been interested in following trends or wearing the latest and greatest clothes.  I have always liked fairly classic and timeless stuff and thanks to a number of friends who sell or have sold clothes in their homes for Doncaster, Carlisle, Etc. and Worth I have tended to buy good enough quality of those more timeless pieces.

Since shopping for clothes is more of a chore than a treat for me I tend to hold on to what I have.  This has proven to be a good strategy as I have lost weight.  I currently have full-on wardrobes in between six and eight sizes.  The bad news is that if I gain weight I have something to wear, but since I am on a downward slope the good news is that I have something to wear that is smaller and practically new to me.

Yesterday I went to my closest of skinniest clothes, otherwise known as the closet of dreams.  It has been about five years since I could wear most of the items housed in this crypt of reminders, “you were fairly thin once.”  I went to this closet because I have a black-tie affair to go to next week and when I put on my current closet’s choices they were all too big.

This would normally be most women’s dream come true.  For me it is more like a pain in the you-know-what since I hate to buy something new under a deadline and I certainly don’t have much time in my calendar to shop.  Once I started flipping through the rack I decided to try on the smallest items just to see where I fit in the Dana’s endless wardrobe continuum.  Much to my surprise I was able to get in all but the very smallest size, and of those there were not many.  I promptly moved a few season appropriate items to my regular closet.  I tried to weed out some of the too big items to go to a third location that I hope I never have to visit again, but I still have a lot more trying on to do.

The bad news was I did not find a dress I want to wear next week.  I found a good blouse, but no bottom.  I found a bottom that I could take in, but no top that went with that.  Now I am thinking about shopping, ugh.  You would think that shopping for a newly skinnier person would be a joy, except for the sales people, the money I don’t want to spend on a dress I hope to shrink out of, the driving hither and yon.  The only good part for me is possibly the steps I would get walking from my car to a store and throughout a store shuffling aimlessly, gathering choices and going into a poorly lit dressing room where I don’t want to take my shocks off because the carpet is so nasty, but looking at myself in a black tie outfit with my short black socks on is so unattractive that I become discouraged.

Why can’t I have a fairy godmother who with the twist of her wand-laden hand could drape me in the perfect outfit fit for a ball, complete with perfectly fitting beautiful shoes?  I would not even care that I would have to get home before midnight, or bear the embarrassment of being seen in my normal tater wear, we all know that I will be home by ten no matter what.  I also guess I need to remind Russ about this event so he can get his twenty-two year old wedding tux out of the closet. I guess you can say I was his fairy godmother since I convinced him to buy his tux for our wedding knowing he would get so much use out of it.  I wish women had that same option.