Clothes Shopping in my Own Closet

Building a new wardrobe from an old one.

I returned to Wickenburg on Saturday and after a few minor difficulties getting into the house — a long story to be covered in the future sometime — settled down and began cleaning up the detritus of a 29-year relationship with a man who has become a stranger to me. Fortunately, he has at least one other place to live and, indeed, has already moved out. So Penny and I pretty much have the house to ourselves.

Folks who follow my blog know that I’ve been dieting all summer. I’m still losing weight — mostly because stress has taken away my appetite and keeps me on edge. The total weight loss so far is 38 pounds. That’s about 19% of my starting body weight. So I guess you can say I’m 81% of the woman I was in May.

I bought some new clothes in Washington and donated my “fat clothes” to Goodwill. But I didn’t bring all my clothes back to Wickenburg. The reason: I had a bunch of old clothes stored away in my closet — clothes from when I was thin.

Pants Outfit
This dressy pants outfit fits better than ever before.

Over the past three days, I’ve been trying on old clothes and shifting them from the back of the closet to the front. Yesterday morning, I tackled the jeans and slacks. I’d pull a pair of pants out of the closet, check the size, and then try them on. Then I’d walk into the bathroom where there’s a big mirror, and I’d check out the fit. And every single time, I’d say to myself, “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You see, with the exception of one skirt and a few pairs of jeans, I was able to get my body into every single item I tried on.

Including a denim skirt I’d made from an embroidered pair of jeans when I was in eighth grade.

In many cases, the clothes I tried on were too big. They went into the Goodwill pile. The clothes that fit got rehung on hangars at the front of the closet. Those few items that were too small — well, I’ll hold onto them just in case I keep shrinking.

Cocktail Dress
I don’t think I ever actually wore this dress. I think it was too small from the day I bought it.

Yesterday afternoon, I started on the dress clothes. I took the size 14/16 Lane Bryant dress — you ladies know what I’m talking about — off the hangar and bundled it up for my mom. Didn’t even bother trying it on — I know I’d be swimming in it. (It’s going to be very long on my mother.) I found a slacks outfit with a cute little short jacket and put the jacket on — 10 years of age fell off me. It looked sharp! And that little cocktail dress I wanted to get into? No problemo! Can’t wait to start wearing it on dates.

I continued going through clothes this morning and will likely continue tomorrow. It’s not just the closet — which I’m almost finished with — but it’s the dresser drawers and the storage bins under the bed. There’s just so much of it.

Short Black Skirt
A wardrobe essential: a short black skirt. I have four of them.

What I’m really glad about, however, is that I didn’t do this last year. I almost did several times, but the task was too daunting. If I’d done it, however, I would have thrown away the skinny clothes and then I’d have nothing that fit me now!

At this point, my car trunk and front passenger seat are completely filled with bags and laundry baskets full of clothes and old purses for the local thrift shop. I’ll drop them off on my way out of town this afternoon. (I’m heading down to the mall to get a makeup consultation and then have dinner with a singles meetup group.)

The best thing about this shopping spree? It didn’t cost me a thing.

Burning the Bridge Back to Fat-Town

Why keep oversized clothes I never want to get back into again?

I did laundry today for the first time in two weeks. I’d just about run out of clothes. Clothes that fit me, that is.

I’m down 37 pounds from where I was about three months ago. Back then, my jeans were uncomfortably tight and I preferred loose-fitting “chef pants” and cargo shorts. As the weight fell off, my clothes started fitting better. And then they started getting loose. It all came to a head about two weeks ago when I realized that I didn’t have any nice jeans that fit. As discussed in the postscript to this post from August 29, I went shopping and discovered that I wasn’t one size smaller — I was two sizes smaller.

I’m actually now wearing the same size Levi’s I wore when I was in high school.

Too Big NowSo today, after doing laundry and having my entire Mobile Mansion wardrobe clean and folded, I decided to start weeding out the clothes that were simply too big to look right on me. Actually, I started weeding in the laundromat, pulling all the XL sized tank tops and gym shorts. Tonight I tried on every pair of pants and shorts. And what I discovered is that every pair of pants and shorts I left Arizona with in May are now too big.

As I gained weight throughout my 40s, I packed away the jeans that became too tight to wear. I had a crazy idea that someday I’d lose weight and be able to wear them again. I can picture them now, in bags on the floor of my closet at home. In October, when I get home, I’ll tear those bags open and go through them. I bet I’ll find plenty in there to fit.

But what of the pants that are now too big? Do I save them, too? Just in case I get fat again?

I don’t think so. I think I’d rather burn the bridge back to Fat-Town. I’ll drop them all off at Goodwill tomorrow.

32 Pounds is a Lot to Carry Around

And I got proof of that today.

I like to hike. I like taking long walks on trails — especially cool, wooded trails winding alongside canyons or rivers. I love to be out in nature, to breathe the fresh air, to smell the plants around me. I really like hiking in solitary places, where I’m not likely to run into another group of hikers with their annoying children or loud chatter, so I can let my dog hike off-leash with me, running ahead, sniffing around, and then darting after me to catch up when she falls behind.

Unfortunately, I was never able to handle uphill climbs. I always got short of breath on any hike that required me to do any climbing at all. I took frequent rest breaks, often holding back some of my companions. It was as if my lungs just weren’t up to the task. This goes way back — I recall doing a hike at Lake George not long after meeting my soon-to-be ex-husband back when I was only 22 and being the second to last person to reach the mountaintop fire tower that was our destination.

Downhill was not an issue. I can hike downhill all day long. Doesn’t matter how steep or how far. Gravity apparently helps out enough that my lungs can deal with it.

Of course, the situation didn’t get any better as I aged or gained weight. Last year I went for a hike in Wenatchee to Saddle Rock with my neighbor and wound up sending him on ahead because I felt bad about him waiting for me. It was a fact of my life, something I dealt with. But not something I wanted friends to have to deal with, too.

So imagine my surprise when I took a short hike this afternoon up a mountain road with an elevation gain of 350 feet in less than half a mile — and didn’t need to stop once for a rest.

View During My HikeI’d tried the same hike back in the end of July — just over a month ago! — and got less than 1/4 mile with four rest breaks. But today, I “motored” up the hill like it was a walk in the park, passed the gate that was my original destination, and walked another 1/2 mile beyond it. I was rewarded with a stroll through tall pine trees and an incredible view of the valley beyond.

I did work up a tiny bit of a sweat on the walk, but I think that’s because it was still pretty warm out — maybe even in the low 80s. Never really got my pulse going, though. And on the way back (when I used GPSTrack to measure the elevation change and distance of the hike), I averaged 3.3 MPH.

I can only assume my newfound energy — or excess lung capacity — is due to the 32 pounds of extra weight I’ve dropped in the past 11 weeks. What else could explain my sudden ability to climb hills?

A gateI do know for certain that the weight loss made it possible for me to slip between the bars of this gate instead of trying to open or climb it. I don’t know the bar spacing, but I know damn well I would not have been able to pass through three months ago.

Regular readers of this blog might be wondering why I keep blogging about my weight. Simply put: I’m amazed by the change. If I knew that I’d look this good and feel this good with 30 pounds off my body, I would have done this years ago. Or never have gotten so overweight.

And I’m also writing this to encourage other people who are overweight to do something about it. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, there are sacrifices. But the way you’ll feel when that weight is off is worth all the effort and sacrifice you made.

Like me, you’ll feel like a new person. I promise.

As for me, my new goal is only 10 pounds away. I should be there before I go back to Arizona in October. Can’t wait to get into those old jeans stored away in the closet!