Isn't it
just the most magical thing? I truly try not to get consumed by the number, but
damnit man, it’s a beautiful feeling. Besides what the scale says, the elixir
of life is in fitting into something you once adored that you have since given
up on. It’s in not feeling like the Michelin Man in your
winter woollies. It is most certainly in someone asking where the other half of
you went to. And without wavering doubt, in this “thread whore’s” life, it’s in
tearing through your cupboard because nothing fits for all the right reasons.
There is plenty coming out my closet, whether it finally fits or is just too
bloody big.
My mission to blazing hotness kicked
off in August last year, which is winter in South Africa. I felt multiple kinds
of uncomfortable in my own skin, and with winter being the least flattering
season out there it’s no surprise that I felt trapped inside my meat suit. As a
result I made some changes and lost bucket loads of weight, and embraced a
leaner new me. This new me is smaller, happier, comfortable in her own essence,
and looks mighty fine in her chevron peplum top, or white skinny pants. All
this in just over a year.
This winter I rocked out like a
Kardashian on a rampage! I have worn an item that has been in cupboard, unworn
and not even thought of in two years. First Hurrah! I fitted into my “winter
wardrobe” better than I ever have, like better than when I initially bought
most of this stuff. Which of course made me realize just how much denial I was
in about my size. Yikes. Never the less, second Hurrah. And Third hurrah. I
have this absolutely gorgeous jacket that I bought and wore almost to death,
and I had not worn it in three entire years. This year, as you can I’m sure
guess it was back on my body, looking better than ever!
It doesn't end there though. Seeing as I had shrunk to a
note able degree, I figured it was time to take a stumble into the closet
of doom. The one where nothing fits, where everything was bought for one day
when I’m a skinny bitch, and the one that breaks my heart worse than any man
ever could. It is filled with amazingly beautiful dresses, tops and
skirts in every style, colour and texture known to man. It is filled with my
ambitions and goals. They are trapped, and its up to me to save them. So yes,
these little stumbles usually only happen when I am feeling somewhat
masochistic, and once I have summoned all the Dutch courage I can from a bottle
or three of chardonnay. Despite going in armed with all my hope and might I
normally get the thrashing of my life, a harsh smash from reality which leaves
me wounded and on the verge of tears. However on this day, I went in sober and
come out drunk on a sense of indescribable victory. For the first time I slayed
the terror that arises from the cupboard.
In a majestic turn of events I
retrieved over 20 items that have been hanging, waiting for me to one day show
them to the world. Tiny pants. Tops in every colour that I can describe.
Blazers. Things with frills. Things with flowers. Some that are even now too
big. There are items that I thought were only ever going to be a fantasy. My
favourite fulfilled fantasy is
being able to wear a relaxed cream shirt which I like to believe would be
seen on Kerry Bradshaw, I waited 2 years to fit into that baby. She finally
came out of the closet. I will never forget the escalating rate of elation as
each new item I took a chance on, fitted. Nor will I forget the complements I
received when I wore something out for the first time. A true testament that I
have worked my ass off, and am looking damn good for it.
Yes there is still a small truck load
of clothing in smaller sizes left to go through, and get into, but when that
day arrives I will wear each one with an unmatched level of pride.
I have passed my clothing that I have
graduated from on. My “tight skirts” were fitting about as well as potato
sacks. My pants looked like I needed a nappy change. And my shirts were living
an empty life. It was time. I am confident I will never - as in ever - need
them again. I am also confident that their new owners will graduate out of them
too.
I say it every January (I think
we all do) – watch me in December, going to be new levels of ridiculous
hotness. Now no, I’m not getting ahead of myself, I might not be completely
ridiculously hot, but erm f*ck I am damn closer than I was last year. This is
going to be my hottest summer yet, and no, that definitely has no reference to
the weather. Looking and feeling amazing in my threads aside, there is a rock
star quality that is shining through, and well, you can’t hide awesome. I am
going to rock - the – shit – out – of – E V E R Y T H I N G!!!
As always I want to see exactly how far
I can take this mission of mine, live the best life imaginable,
see just how banging I will end up looking, and treasure every clothing
size between now and then.