Clothes maketh the pauper
In a recent attack of poutiness--combined with a lack of late-season cold-weather options of which I was not already hearily sick--I declared that I had nothing to wear. Specifically, nothing fabulous. This is not a new problem.
I have the kind of figure that instantly requires a new dress size for any change in weight, or bloatiness, or phase of the moon, or allergy status. It's all seemingly concentrated on the critical measurements. Thus I have clothes to fit versions of myself at 12-16+ sizes. I don't seem to grow in the same proportions, nor are there as many choices out there for ladies built like brick sh#thouses. God I love being thin :-(
I'm also annoyingly sensitive to temperature. Not necessarily the temperature in my vicinity, but it seems to me a miracle if I manage to find the exact right number and type of layers to avoid sweating or freezing.
I am also cheap. I know perfectly well that well fitted or tailored clothing is the best, but it's not possible to maintain a wardobe that fits me from day to day. When I am a 12 my proportions are sufficiently commercial-friendly to find interesting things that fit. When I am a 16+ NOTHING FITS, so it's all about staying warm.
So I have a lot of cheap crappy clothes with few opportunities to improve upon them. For each narrow seasonal/situational/physiological niche there are only a few items, but I can adequately cover my nakedness, so it's nigh impossible to justify expenditure to improve matters. If I buy another coat, a dolphin will die. Actually coats aren't the problem, it's trousers. Pants. Tracky pants: the last refuge of the shapeless and desperate, and I manage to have trouble with them.
I wear tracky pants with distressing regularity. I retain enough self-respect to only be seen in public wearing a "good" pair of tracky pants, but the very existence of that concept causes me pain. They should ALL be Bad. It doesn't take long for these things to look old, and I recently realised that my Good tracky pants (those that currently fit) weren't looking so good. I was also moving into a weight range where there were no Good tracky pants to be had at all.
Nothing about tracky pants is fabulous, but my dressing decisions seemed hopelessly limited to which pair of crap (but warm) pants would I wear that day to hang on the couch.
Dammit I'm blathering and have yet to come to the point.
Today I took myself shopping for some new Good warm tracky pants and failed to find any. Too late in the season it would seem, unless I get myself to a clearance place. I did find some larger-sized medium-weight ones with the illusion of detail in ribbon and brass eyelets, so until the cats and my washing machine mangle them they will have to do.
But I did buy four scarves, including my new favourite one scattered with pastel butterflies, and a happy-making floral. Scarves don't judge. I have some really nice scarves. Perhaps I should treat myself to some new socks too. I'd also like to find some more short wraparound skirts to wear over trousers and cover the troublesome bulgy areas. Perhaps Etsy can help me there - I certainly can't buy anything remotely fitted online.
It feels terribly consumerist of me to want new things just because I'm sick of the same limited choices I've had over the winter. I also feel somehow that I shouldn't reward myself at this weight by buying nice things that fit, even if I could find them. But I'm sick of dressing like a scary train person.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE... caring about clothes is a good sign that my health is improving. And Spring is springing.
I have the kind of figure that instantly requires a new dress size for any change in weight, or bloatiness, or phase of the moon, or allergy status. It's all seemingly concentrated on the critical measurements. Thus I have clothes to fit versions of myself at 12-16+ sizes. I don't seem to grow in the same proportions, nor are there as many choices out there for ladies built like brick sh#thouses. God I love being thin :-(
I'm also annoyingly sensitive to temperature. Not necessarily the temperature in my vicinity, but it seems to me a miracle if I manage to find the exact right number and type of layers to avoid sweating or freezing.
I am also cheap. I know perfectly well that well fitted or tailored clothing is the best, but it's not possible to maintain a wardobe that fits me from day to day. When I am a 12 my proportions are sufficiently commercial-friendly to find interesting things that fit. When I am a 16+ NOTHING FITS, so it's all about staying warm.
So I have a lot of cheap crappy clothes with few opportunities to improve upon them. For each narrow seasonal/situational/physiological niche there are only a few items, but I can adequately cover my nakedness, so it's nigh impossible to justify expenditure to improve matters. If I buy another coat, a dolphin will die. Actually coats aren't the problem, it's trousers. Pants. Tracky pants: the last refuge of the shapeless and desperate, and I manage to have trouble with them.
I wear tracky pants with distressing regularity. I retain enough self-respect to only be seen in public wearing a "good" pair of tracky pants, but the very existence of that concept causes me pain. They should ALL be Bad. It doesn't take long for these things to look old, and I recently realised that my Good tracky pants (those that currently fit) weren't looking so good. I was also moving into a weight range where there were no Good tracky pants to be had at all.
Nothing about tracky pants is fabulous, but my dressing decisions seemed hopelessly limited to which pair of crap (but warm) pants would I wear that day to hang on the couch.
Dammit I'm blathering and have yet to come to the point.
Today I took myself shopping for some new Good warm tracky pants and failed to find any. Too late in the season it would seem, unless I get myself to a clearance place. I did find some larger-sized medium-weight ones with the illusion of detail in ribbon and brass eyelets, so until the cats and my washing machine mangle them they will have to do.
But I did buy four scarves, including my new favourite one scattered with pastel butterflies, and a happy-making floral. Scarves don't judge. I have some really nice scarves. Perhaps I should treat myself to some new socks too. I'd also like to find some more short wraparound skirts to wear over trousers and cover the troublesome bulgy areas. Perhaps Etsy can help me there - I certainly can't buy anything remotely fitted online.
It feels terribly consumerist of me to want new things just because I'm sick of the same limited choices I've had over the winter. I also feel somehow that I shouldn't reward myself at this weight by buying nice things that fit, even if I could find them. But I'm sick of dressing like a scary train person.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE... caring about clothes is a good sign that my health is improving. And Spring is springing.