So, my wardrobe is starting to look a little baggy. I mean, I guess you could say that I’m just coordinating my wardrobe with my skin but it’s getting a little ridiculous. I haven’t ditched any of my clothing from the beginning of this whole thing and nearly 50lbs later I’m still trying to pretend that those pants really do fit.

It’s a funny reverse of the original situation. While once I was trying to pretend that not being able to breathe didn’t actually mean that the pants were too small, now I’m trying to pretend that just because my pants are falling off doesn’t mean that I need to go and buy a new pair.

Frankly, I’m having enough trouble keeping my pants on without them nearly falling off on their own. It’s not helping the situation.

So, I guess it’s time to start cleaning out my closet, getting rid of the old, and getting some new threads. The problem is, though, that I am a poor snob. I can’t stand the idea of buying nice clothing that is only going to fit for a few months, but I also can’t stand the idea of buying “in the meantime” cheap clothing.

I can’t decide which is the lesser of the two evils and it’s killing me.

I’ve always been a savvy shopper. I like name brands and quality but I don’t like to pay for name brands and quality. Having been roughly the same size for several years, this wasn’t a problem. I bought clothing at major sales and kept the same things for years.

Most of my clothing predates most of my friendships. Either this means I’m a really shitty friend (shut up, Sugar Muffin) or I really like my clothing. Or both.

Isn’t this the most pitiful thing to be lamenting? I know, it’s totally a White Whine… and people out there actually have real problems. I get it. This is a totally shallow and self absorbed post (aren’t most blog posts out there, though?). I’m owning it.

Here’s why this White Girl Problem actually has some validity: I am one of those people who feel defined by their clothing. I’ve crafted a very carefully constructed image to communicate with people before I even open my mouth. I believe that you can learn a lot about people by their clothing so I’m intentional about what I communicate with mine.

It’s the performer in me. I know the importance of the details.

Now I have to start over in crafting those details. It’s exciting, scary, and conflicting with my tightwad ways. It’s also an opportunity for reassessment and reinvention.

What in the world did I see in that outfit?

I’m changing with this weight loss process so I really ought to take the opportunity to look at various aspects of my life that have been totally static over the last several years. It’s hard to buy clothing that I know I won’t be keeping for ever and ever but maybe that’ll be a growth thing too. Learning to let go?

For those who have lost a significant amount of weight, how did you deal with the clothing situation?

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