She's a rainbow...

On Sunday afternoon, there were at least two other people I know doing the same thing as me.  This wasn't recovering from a overindulgence of red wine from the night before (followed up by several almond liqueurs as no else liked it, and it seemed rude to leave it) as I probably know a lot more than two people who were doing that on Sunday.  No, this was something far more practical.

On Thursday night, I had done what I always do before crawling under the duvet for the night.  Clothes, underwear and shoes all neatly laid out for the next morning at Binland to avoid any unnecessary 'pre-work flapping' as the Mother would call it. Slipping on the skirt on Friday, you can imagine my surprise when there was a good two inches of waistband which was surplus to requirements.  This meant that I had a couple of options.  Either I changed my planned wardrobe for that morning, or I kept the skirt on, walking like John Wayne for the rest of the day in an attempt to stop it slipping past my knees.  Well sanity prevailed ladies, and there was a hurried clothing change, and a decision that on Sunday, I would be Sorting Out My Wardrobe.

Sunday came.  The hangover came.  But a plan's a plan, and I eventually regained enough oomph to drag myself up to my bedroom.

Now my wardrobe is split into two areas.  There are tops which can continue being worn irrespective of what I weigh/where I'm going/what the season is.  To be honest, my bosom tends to go from flat to concave, so there's never much which can effect how the clothes fit.  However, on the bottom rail are the bane of my life.  Work trousers and skirts.  There are jeans there as well, but luckily, they have so much elastane in them these days that I could be a size 12 or a size 18 and there would still be a modicum of use in them.  

But work trousers aren't so forgiving...  

Just before Christmas, when I had given up on my head ever getting itself into gear for a bit of sensible eating, I had bought two pairs of expensive work trousers.  These were quite snug when purchased and over the last two months have started to fit me perfectly.  Trying them on as I worked my way across the bottom rail, I was devastated to see that no longer did I look the picture of professional middle aged lady.  Now I was more Charlie Cairoli.  All I needed was a red nose and a large bow tie and I'd be there.  So these went into the Departure Lounge re of my bedroom floor ready to be packed away for the time being. (You can see that I am under no illusion that one day I will 'find' the fat I 'lost').

But it wasn't all bad.  Coming into the Arrivals Hall were trousers which I haven't worn for an least eighteen months, so that was really encouraging.  

Two hours later, my wardrobe was sorted.  I have made the mistake of a double whammy wardrobe sort though, and brought in any summer clothes which might fit me now.  As the weather still isn't that warm, I may have to resort to multi layering.

So if you see me, and wonder why I'm looking larger than usual, I'd like to reassure you that I'm not back on the cake.  It's just I am wearing a pair of shorts, three t-shirts, a skirt, a short sleeved shirt and two thin cardigans to ward off frostbite....

And none of it is black...