It was about twenty years ago, when my mother and I were staying with Wink. I used to drive her down in her car, then come home by train and my sister would drive her back up and go back by train in her turn. She didn't like to make the journey alone - alone apart from her dog, that is.
Sometimes I'd stay for a few days, and on this occasion we went shopping. I saw a skirt I rather liked, longish, silky, black with cream and golden brownish (I'm rubbish with colours) flowers, a size 10 and quite unforgiving, being straight and sleek. But my mother saw it too and pounced first (she had no idea I was interested myself). She bought it, which was fine ... but she never wore it. When she died, ten years later, it still had its label on. I have no idea why she didn't wear it, or give it to me or Wink instead, but maybe she thought it was a bit young for her? - I don't know. Anyway, within a few years I'd expanded, so wouldn't have been able to wear it.
We used to exchange clothes sometimes - that is, I don't suppose I passed anything much on to her, but she did to me, she bought rather a lot of clothes. So Wink and I didn't have any scruples when she died about keeping any of her clothes that we liked, before passing the rest on to the charity shop. One coat, she's only bought three months earlier for £250, which was a sort of bravado to prove she wasn't really ill and would live long enough to get full wear out of it. It's lovely, I still wear it and get lots of compliments.
But this skirt has hung in the wardrobe. And when I lost weight and could wear a size 10 again, it was still too small. Then, I could do it up but it looked too tight.
Last Thursday, I was going out to dinner. And I tried on the skirt. Darlings, it went on easily, did up, I wore a close-fitting top and it looked fine.
Still half a stone to go, though. But that was pretty damn satisfying. Makes me feel I'm on the right track.
Sometimes I'd stay for a few days, and on this occasion we went shopping. I saw a skirt I rather liked, longish, silky, black with cream and golden brownish (I'm rubbish with colours) flowers, a size 10 and quite unforgiving, being straight and sleek. But my mother saw it too and pounced first (she had no idea I was interested myself). She bought it, which was fine ... but she never wore it. When she died, ten years later, it still had its label on. I have no idea why she didn't wear it, or give it to me or Wink instead, but maybe she thought it was a bit young for her? - I don't know. Anyway, within a few years I'd expanded, so wouldn't have been able to wear it.
We used to exchange clothes sometimes - that is, I don't suppose I passed anything much on to her, but she did to me, she bought rather a lot of clothes. So Wink and I didn't have any scruples when she died about keeping any of her clothes that we liked, before passing the rest on to the charity shop. One coat, she's only bought three months earlier for £250, which was a sort of bravado to prove she wasn't really ill and would live long enough to get full wear out of it. It's lovely, I still wear it and get lots of compliments.
But this skirt has hung in the wardrobe. And when I lost weight and could wear a size 10 again, it was still too small. Then, I could do it up but it looked too tight.
Last Thursday, I was going out to dinner. And I tried on the skirt. Darlings, it went on easily, did up, I wore a close-fitting top and it looked fine.
Still half a stone to go, though. But that was pretty damn satisfying. Makes me feel I'm on the right track.
1 comment:
That's more than 'on the right track'. About time I blogged again too... You inspiration, you.
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