FrankenPants, Kissy Shirts and Argyle Sweaters

The Results Of Surgical Alterations...To Clothing and To Me


My Bonus Mom is awesome.  She volunteered to help me stretch my wardrobe while I am shrinking by altering things as they became too big.  I took her up on the offer for several reasons: to save money by not replacing items for a while; to save my sanity by not doing a lot of shopping just yet, as I still have a long way yet to go; to save some still perfectly good jeans that I've worn and loved for a long time before I have to give them up to the "donate" basket.  It's strange how sentimental I can be about certain items of clothing, but the jeans I'm talking about in this case also have pockets, so they are practical.  I can be sentimental about practicality as well!

After several fittings, Bonus Mom called last week to tell me that my jeans were all done and I could come and pick them up anytime.  Hallelujah, my beloved jeans and their pockets would soon be back on my frame and fitting me better since their surgical alterations, necessitated by my surgical alterations.  The last time she did a fitting, she asked if I wanted her to cut out the excess fabric from the seams inside where she took them in, and I said that wouldn't be necessary since the pair I tried on felt fine without it removed.

I am so glad I had her leave the excess fabric there!  If I turn the pants inside out, I can see exactly how much she took the waist in, both front and back, as well as the inches taken in on each leg.  Turned inside out, they look like FrankenPants!  But in a wonderful way.  It is one more bit of tangible evidence of the progress made since this whole weight loss adventure began.

As I think about my wardrobe, there are some items that I'll never part with no matter how much too big they are, just because I love them, because of their history.  I have a ginormous red sweatshirt with "St. Simons Island" emblazoned on the front.  It was too big when I bought it, so it's really too big now.  But I'll never get rid of it.  I bought it on my first trip there with The Hubs.  We usually took vacations in Destin, Florida, but that particular year, our favorite place had experienced hurricane damage.  I had been to St. Simons as a teenager with my church youth group and suggested we might try going there for a change.  Our first trip to the island was magical, and was not our last.  It has become another favorite vacation spot for us. My sweatshirt is like a warm hug reminding me of every wonderful time we've enjoyed there.  No, I won't be donating it.

I have a white shirt with bright pink and red lipstick prints on it that swirls around on me now, but I won't be getting rid of it, either.  Too much history and too many good memories.  It's been with me on every trip with The Hubs ever since I bought it a hundred years ago.  I've had strange ladies yell at me in shopping malls in other states to say my shirt was cool.  At the end of a trip to Las Vegas, as we were leaving our hotel around 4 in the morning, we stopped in the hotel restaurant to get some pre-airport breakfast and I was wearing The Shirt.  There were a couple of inebriated and clearly sleep-deprived young male gamblers in the breakfast line behind us, flirting with me and saying how much they liked my shirt.  On a different Vegas trip, we were having dinner in Quark's (the Star Trek-themed restaurant that used to be in The Star Trek Experience at the Hilton, DON'T JUDGE ME, I KNOW I'M A GEEK!) and the resident Klingon stopped at our table and commented on my shirt, expressing concern that numerous small creatures had been biting me and left their marks behind.  I've worn it to work pretty often, but one day, on a dare or something, I ended up taking photos of a bunch of my male coworkers posing in the "kissy" shirt.  Dudes in that shirt were just too funny.  Those pictures died several computers ago, unfortunately.  I'd love to be able to Facebook them now!

Some items of clothing are irreplaceable, either because they are no longer made or because of the history and memories attached to them.  Some things, however, can be replaced, in the smaller sizes I can now fit into.  As I write this, I have just received a little gift from the UPS man.  It was a package containing smaller versions of my favorite flannel pajamas and a slightly different version of my favorite black and red argyle sweater.  I am meeting some friends for dinner in a couple of days, people who have not seen me since surgery.  I may wear the new sweater and take the old one with me, to show them, and myself, how far this journey has brought me to this point.