Baggy trousers...

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I almost skipped to the scales yesterday morning for the Binland Diet Club weigh in, confident in the fact that another bit of unsightly lard had withered away over the last seven days.  Last Thursday, Mrs S (she is so kind and lovely all the time and deserves a medal from the Queen for being so brilliant at her job) said that I was beginning to change shape (round to oval I feel), and based on that, I decided that some wardrobe rifling was required.

I had a whole day off on Monday, so armed with bin liners, I opened the wardrobe door and dived in.  Hopping around the bedroom in my drawers, I pulled on pairs of jeans and trousers, skirts and dresses, and the pile of 'That Doesn't Fit Anymore' clothing grew bigger and bigger.  Digging around further in the wardrobe, I stumbled across a bag of clothes which you might label as 'One Day' items, ie, one day they might actually fit.  None of these fitted, even after my weight loss, so that all went back into the bag for a day in the distant future when they might (who am I kidding?)

Having removed anything which was too small or too big, I was left with rather a meagre offering of clothes for the here and now, and I reckon that friends and family will assume I have turned into someone living under a a Communist regime, as I will be wearing the same grey jeans and jumper for the foreseeable future. But I am hoping that over the next few weeks, the 'One Day' clothes will start filtering from bag to wardrobe which will be very exciting.  

The only problem with this is that they are quite old items of clothing (One Day clothes have no best by date, as you all know).  Not sure that 1980's baggy jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt will work for me at the ripe old age of 54 and a half, but there will be a couple of jackets which might do (once I have removed the shoulder pads and faux brass buttons).  

Going through the wardrobe, I discovered a lot of stuff on the top shelf, which had been there since we moved into this house many years ago.  Two wedding hats (one black, one orange, both warped) a cuddly bear with an ear missing (bad mother, never got round to it), a pair of shoes worn on my hen night (left on the top shelf as they shed glitter) and then at the back of a shelf, I found some tiny shoe boxes.

Inside were the children's first shoes.  Navy blue, buckled and barely worn,  I sat down and looked at them, marvelling how my babies have become such fantastic adults.  

Must have been doing something right, even if I didn't sew that bloody ear back on...

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