I think NOT

A few weeks ago Jim and I were packing for an out-of-town funeral. He asked what I was going to wear and I told him I planned to wear the dress I had made for our daughter's March 2003 wedding.

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you tried that on lately?"

"Um, not precisely lately, but I did wear it in late May."

"Go try it on."

Sounded reasonable, so I did. The dress absolutely hung on me. When Jim got done laughing, he suggested the pantsuit. I was doubtful about that, remembering the shape I'd been when I bought it, but the weather was supposed to be cold and wet and I needed something with coverage. I tried on the pantsuit.

Instant replay. For some reason he thought it looked pretty funny, too. I added it to the stack of clothes I've been accumulating to drop off at the thrift shop and scanned the closet. It's looking rather bare.

Eventually I remembered a bag of clothes I'd stuffed in the spare room closet, things I couldn't bear to part with even though they no longer fit. There I found a dress I'd bought in 1990 that I absolutely loved. The colors look so perfect on me. I tried it on; it fit. But the style. Oh, my. Reluctantly I put that aside as well, wondering if there was enough fabric in the skirt to make a blouse out of (like I'll ever do that, but still...) At the bottom of the bag I found a pair of dress pants that, paired with a silk blouse from the closet, would do the trick. Actually I don't like those pants so I'm not sure why I saved them, but they do fit well (again) and I needed something.

The pile of stuff to donate is growing as I dig out more and more of my fall and winter wardrobe and realize no-can-do. There are a few things I'm really sad to put in the pile, things I absolutely loved. But I'm not going back there. Why would I keep just-in-case clothes in sizes that are now several too large for me?

I've lost an average of four inches off of each of the statistical portions of my body. I shouldn't find it so surprising that things don't fit. Jim has been promising me a shopping trip for awhile now, telling me we can afford to NOT shop at Value Village. But you know, honestly, there's a lot of really good clothes in thrift shops so my goal always is to find what I can there, and then pay real money for the other things I need.

Due to circumstances beyond our control, that shopping trip continues to slide into the future. We had very little extra time on that trip to the funeral a few weeks ago. But in the meanwhile, I've resorted to rolling up most of my pant legs because the waistlines are resting on my hips, causing the bottoms to drag.

Anyway, Tuesday I went to the local thrift shop on my noon hour. I hate buying pants there because all the women's pants and jeans are on one long rack, unmarked by size. The store is crowded even when there are no other shoppers--and there are NEVER no other shoppers. So, Tuesday's goal was to do nothing but dig through the jeans.

I came out with three pairs: two blue jeans and one slightly dressier black jeans that I can wear to work (I had one pair of khaki colored cords I've been wearing every day for a month.) Also found two t-shirts and a fleece button-up shirt for Jim. Grand total? Eleven bucks. What's not to love about thrift shops?

I'm really needing workout wear for cooler weather. The stuff I wore in spring is (like the rest of my pants) hanging kinda low. There weren't any decent ones at the thrift shop, so Wednesday on my lunch hour I went *real* shopping. And quickly remembered why I love thrift shops.

Eighty-five bucks for a sweatshirt? Fifty-five for sweat pants? I think NOT. They're not cute in the slightest. They're not thick fabric. They're thin and gray and white with a pink stripe. They're UTILITY clothes. I'm not spending that kind of money. That is final. Apparently I need to go shopping out of town.