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An Odyssey through a Sea of Clothes
Jul. 7th, 2015 12:47 amSo I got up last week and wanted to wear shorts and something sleeveless (but not one of my fringed t-shirts, which are fun, but not so much when I'm out with garden snips). The urge to shorts was prompted by the fact that controlling blood sugar has led to a somewhat thinner me, enough so that my skirts that used to be out of the way now are loose enough to hang low on my hips and be in danger of being stepped on going up stairs or trying to use a large shovel. (Also, cutting all the gluten and corn out of my diet means I'm not always afraid that putting on something that's tight around my belly will end up being painful or exacerbating gastrointestinal discomfort. I still love skirts and dresses, but other things are less likely to be uncomfortable now.)
Now, I could do a bit of sewing and put new waistbands on the skirts, but that takes time and is only worth the effort on skirts that I plan to wear for something more fun than digging up weed trees, painting my porch, and pulling smaller weeds. So I got in the car and drove to the thrift store, where I gathered a bag of cool things (some cool in terms of summer comfort only, and others cool in terms of being styles I am very pleased to wear. I then came home, my head full of images of the kinds of clothes that I can now fit into or will soon be able to fit into if I keep losing weight, and attacked my closet, pulling out quite a few things that are now too big and relegating them to a new destiny, that of being heartlessly abandoned at the thrift store.
It's not as if I didn't know, before, that I had reached a size where a lot of the fun clothes I love just weren't made in my size, but that knowledge didn't inspire me to eat differently.
You know, I always would have told you that I cared more about my brains than my looks, but didn't realize the proof would be so easily acquired once a doctor told me I had blood sugar problems and I realized (by changing my diet drastically in the weeks before I could get a new primary doc and get that treated medically) that the high blood sugar was affecting my higher brain function. I am writing more now, because my brain is once again holding all the bits needed to shape a story properly; heck, I can even see the difference in my facebook comments!
I'm well aware of the dangers of diabetes--I have a friend whose mantra in the gym, repeated rhythmically, is, "I want to keep my feet." Not getting the blood sugar under control is not an option if I want to continue to be able to walk and do art and see. But bringing it down had an unexpected and immediate effect on my mental acuity that (in my mind) trumped all of those other things. Now, when I look at simple carbs, it's a lot like looking at wheat and corn--when I feel tempted, I think of the results of eating the way I used to and the temptation vanishes. I do sometimes feel sad, but not tempted. I have no doubt at all that it's not worth the consequences. That never happened when I looked at cute dresses and thought it would be nice to be thinner so I could wear them. I guess I have my priorities!
But that doesn't keep me from enjoying packing away all the fat lady dresses (wait--where did that phrase come from? Oh, never mind, it's apt enough, and I'm not judging anybody, not even my former self) into plastic grocery bags and then into the trunk of my car. It also doesn't keep me from feeling glee at going through the old clothes I couldn't fit into but couldn't bear to get rid of (after washing the attic mustiness away) and finding I fit into clothes that haven't been seen on my body since before I became a Mom. Some of those are going into the trunk too, but a lot are going into drawers or my closet so I can enjoy them again.
And as I look at all of the clothes, I'm seeing them differently in other ways too. All the drab office casual stuff that served as a work costume, telling people I was competent and serious and professional, all that can go now, since I'm aiming to be a totally different kind of professional, one where a drab disguise isn't necessary. Not that I wasn't professional and competent and taking people's legal issues seriously, of course I was--and still am--all of those things. But I am so much more than that, and there's joy in embracing that as well.
Later this week, after I finish going through the stuff I dragged down from the attic, I'll take a trunkload (or more--the trunk is nearly full already) of stuff to the thrift store. I hope those clothes will bring someone else joy, as they did me when I needed them, but even if no one else wants them, I'm glad to be giving them away. I have no regrets and no doubts about moving into a future without them.
And that's pretty cool, in and of itself.
Now, I could do a bit of sewing and put new waistbands on the skirts, but that takes time and is only worth the effort on skirts that I plan to wear for something more fun than digging up weed trees, painting my porch, and pulling smaller weeds. So I got in the car and drove to the thrift store, where I gathered a bag of cool things (some cool in terms of summer comfort only, and others cool in terms of being styles I am very pleased to wear. I then came home, my head full of images of the kinds of clothes that I can now fit into or will soon be able to fit into if I keep losing weight, and attacked my closet, pulling out quite a few things that are now too big and relegating them to a new destiny, that of being heartlessly abandoned at the thrift store.
It's not as if I didn't know, before, that I had reached a size where a lot of the fun clothes I love just weren't made in my size, but that knowledge didn't inspire me to eat differently.
You know, I always would have told you that I cared more about my brains than my looks, but didn't realize the proof would be so easily acquired once a doctor told me I had blood sugar problems and I realized (by changing my diet drastically in the weeks before I could get a new primary doc and get that treated medically) that the high blood sugar was affecting my higher brain function. I am writing more now, because my brain is once again holding all the bits needed to shape a story properly; heck, I can even see the difference in my facebook comments!
I'm well aware of the dangers of diabetes--I have a friend whose mantra in the gym, repeated rhythmically, is, "I want to keep my feet." Not getting the blood sugar under control is not an option if I want to continue to be able to walk and do art and see. But bringing it down had an unexpected and immediate effect on my mental acuity that (in my mind) trumped all of those other things. Now, when I look at simple carbs, it's a lot like looking at wheat and corn--when I feel tempted, I think of the results of eating the way I used to and the temptation vanishes. I do sometimes feel sad, but not tempted. I have no doubt at all that it's not worth the consequences. That never happened when I looked at cute dresses and thought it would be nice to be thinner so I could wear them. I guess I have my priorities!
But that doesn't keep me from enjoying packing away all the fat lady dresses (wait--where did that phrase come from? Oh, never mind, it's apt enough, and I'm not judging anybody, not even my former self) into plastic grocery bags and then into the trunk of my car. It also doesn't keep me from feeling glee at going through the old clothes I couldn't fit into but couldn't bear to get rid of (after washing the attic mustiness away) and finding I fit into clothes that haven't been seen on my body since before I became a Mom. Some of those are going into the trunk too, but a lot are going into drawers or my closet so I can enjoy them again.
And as I look at all of the clothes, I'm seeing them differently in other ways too. All the drab office casual stuff that served as a work costume, telling people I was competent and serious and professional, all that can go now, since I'm aiming to be a totally different kind of professional, one where a drab disguise isn't necessary. Not that I wasn't professional and competent and taking people's legal issues seriously, of course I was--and still am--all of those things. But I am so much more than that, and there's joy in embracing that as well.
Later this week, after I finish going through the stuff I dragged down from the attic, I'll take a trunkload (or more--the trunk is nearly full already) of stuff to the thrift store. I hope those clothes will bring someone else joy, as they did me when I needed them, but even if no one else wants them, I'm glad to be giving them away. I have no regrets and no doubts about moving into a future without them.
And that's pretty cool, in and of itself.
