It will shock and devastate you (I’m sure) to know that this post is NOT about my state of childlessness and singledom. No indeedy. It’s about something far more important – as I’m sure you will agree. It’s about clothes. Yes indeedy… clothes.

You may recall – as I’m sure you have a eidetic memory, or have committed ALL of my posts to memory (indelible as they are!) that several months ago I was sharing my wardrobe woes with you all. Winter had just arrived here in Oz and I had nary a jacket to fit. I’m not much of a ‘corporate’ dresser in the workplace anyway (mostly wear the same things to work that I’d wear to a bar – if I went – or out to dinner). But… in winter a jacket for inside wear is useful to cover all sorts of sins. But, as I didn’t have any jackets to fit I think I just ‘layered’ for a while.

Winter’s basically done and dusted now, although we are having the occasional chilly day and my workplace has some COLD rooms (not the storage kind, but the kind where the airconditioning is a tad overenthusiastic). So, a jacket is still somewhat handy.

Today I have a very long meeting to attend. Although I’m hot and sweaty when I get to the train for my commute into work, I cool down and then sit about shuddering all day… so, after rising earlier today, I delved into my cupboard for something to wear over the shorter-sleeved shirt I’d donned. I had a jacket in mind, but when I went into my walk-in wardrobe I was reminded of one that I absolutely LOVED when I first got it several years ago. I only wore it for a few months…. after my oft-discussed visit to fat camp. I’d bought it on eBay several months before – at a time I was buying a HEAP of stuff by my favourite designer: Nicola Waite – and was ecstatic that I fit into some of it having dropped some weight fat-camping. It didn’t last long though… and before I knew it, kilos had re-invited themselves into my life and I was once again needing to buy tragic-wear to cover my expanding body.

Given that I own four Nicola Waite jackets, I’m not sure why I like this one so much… perhaps because when I wore it over two years ago and caught a glimpse of myself in an elevator mirror, I was surprised that I looked more flat-stomached than I imagined. (So it holds a special place in my heart.)

So… today I gingerly took it out of my wardrobe. Realistically I knew it SHOULD have fitted. I am a few kilos less (now) than my post-fat camp weight. (Although the lack of carbohydrates over the month I was there meant my stomach was WAY flatter than it would have otherwise been!)

And… ta – dum! It fitted. I put it on and buttoned it up and pranced (well, walked) down the steps where my visiting mother was on the telephone and gave me the thumbs up at my outfit. Of course I then had to remove the jacket for the walk to the train station and didn’t don it again until arriving into work, but throughout my commute I felt slightly smug at the knowledge that I again had this fabulous jacket to wear. Well… I would if Spring wasn’t already upon us and the weather getting warmer.

Similarly, when I started this job (in January of this year) I went shopping for some new (and more corporate) work clothes. In reality I think my big shopping expedition resulted in one pair of trousers and shirt that fit, plus a pair of 3/4 length very-groovy pants and a shirt-dress thing, both of which didn’t EXACTLY fit at the time (ie. they didn’t fit at all but were on sale). Both were summery outfits so I knew I had some time to fit into them… though suspecting that they may still have their tags on several years henceforth.

However… having lost a stack of weight (though only just over half of what I need to lose) the 3/4 pants now fit. In fact… they are actually too bloody big. I suspect sometime in winter (had I been able to wear 3/4 pants) they would have been perfect; whereas now – though comfy and still relatively groovy – they are too loose and somewhat unflattering.

It’s surprised me how contented or (dare I say) joyous the jacket and trouser discoveries have made me. For a long time I have regretted gaining the weight I’d lost at fat camp. I was fitter and healthier at that time than I’d been in years and years and years… and since I’ve constantly berated myself for wasting the opportunity to build on that to become the ME I wanted to be. Instead I went back to a place even darker (and heavier) than I’d been before. But now… I have a chance. A chance to continue on and be that ‘better version of me’. So… like I said in my post yesterday, I feel hopeful.