Wardrobes Vs Relationships
There is virtually nothing in a girl’s life that can’t be solved by a bottle of wine or a shopping trip – both shared with a good girlfriend.
A few weeks ago on a rainy Saturday morning both, my girlfriend Lora and I, found ourselves in need of retail therapy. Me, because nothing fitted me anymore, and her, because of boyfriend troubles which meant she was after some shoes. You know, the ones, they cost half of your salary and say I-am-fabulous-and-he-is-an-idiot.
We arrived in the first shop and I picked up a few items in my usual size 12. In the changing rooms, as I was trying everything on, Lora filled me in on the major argument she had with her boyfriend and presented her dilemma as to whether or not she should stay with him. But as big as her problem was, mine was no less important – nothing from my selection fitted me. The skirt was sitting on me like a hip scarf on a belly dancer casually dangling off my waist, and the trousers I could easily pull down without undoing the fly.
As I stood there half listening to Lora and half wondering why on earth nothing fitted me, it suddenly dawned on me – I’d lost some weight recently so why not try on size 10? Now, I have never been a size 10 before so the prospect of fitting into anything that says size 10 was actually giving me butterflies. I asked the shop assistant to get me my selection in size 10 and… everything fitted like a glove. On the way out I was so excited, I nearly kissed the helpful girl. She hated me – she was size 18.
Hours and many shops later we popped in to a little Italian for a spot of lunch. My shopping bags featured old faithful M&S, New Look and Next, while Lora was carrying bright pink House of Fraser bags with two precious pairs of full retail price LK Bennetts.
But no amount of designer shoes could make her feel better - she loved him but the arguments were becoming more and more frequent and the relationship was stumbling.
That weekend I did a serious wardrobe clear out. And as my no-longer-fits pile was growing I realised how attached I was to my old clothes and how sorry I was to see them go. I felt like I was losing a part of me with each item; and when I was done, the pile was enormous and my wardrobe virtually empty.
I couldn’t help but wonder, in relationships and wardrobes, why do we keep sizes that no longer fit us? Whether it is a baggy jumper or a dead relationship, why do we not leave it behind and go shopping for stuff that actually fits?
Lora popped in later that day and as I was putting my clothes into a black sack ready for a charity shop run, she asked - ‘Aren’t you going to store them somewhere? You know, in case you need them again…’
So I had a choice - to box everything up and store somewhere or get rid once and for all and cut all the connections with size 12. I chose the latter. Stupidly or bravely, I decided to move away from 12 and towards 10, no looking back, no safely net, no back up.
A pizza and 2 bottles of wine later Lora made up her mind to leave her boyfriend, kidnap the dog which they had a joint custody over, move back to Eastbourne and start all over again. Except I knew she wouldn’t do that.
That night as I was getting ready for bed I opened my wardrobe, and although it barely had any clothes in it, I felt happy. I didn’t have much but I had exactly what I needed and in the right size.
I went to bed feeling content and happy. As I was turning the lights off I texted my boyfriend good night. Lora called hers, apologised for the row and got back together with him.