Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Yet another holiday weekend, which I'll write about in stages. Saturday was a relatively quiet day, where The Gryphon and I did some stuff about my house. Mainly, we went to Home Depot and bought wall patch supplies so that he could help me fix a huge gash in my closet. I think it was there when I moved in. No, really.

The problem with the gash is that, when I had uninvited mousie visitors, they used it as they entrance into my apartment, and spent a good deal of time working on it to make it bigger. But The Gryphon took care of that. The hole is now repaired, as if it had never been.

I do so love having a boyfriend who's handy.

Then later in the day, we went to see Spider-Man 2. Terrific movie. I have to say it's one of the top comic book movies of all time, to include the original Batman and the original Superman (with Christopher Reeves).

Now, since that was a fairly quiet day, the rest of this Musing will be a leftover, if you will. This was what I was originally going to put up on Friday, before a legendary actor passed on.

I recently went through my closet and attacked my sacred cows. Simply put, I culled most of my imported hippie type shirts, which are too big on me. These shirts I will give to my brother's wife, who is pregnant, for possible use as maternity clothes. Many of these shirts are very blousy and just might work.

The ones accumulated during the last five years were easier to part with. But I also have shirts that have seen a lot more time and a lot more experiences with me. And yet, they no longer fit. I mean, for heaven's sakes, my high school band jacket fits me once more, just to put things in perspective (which, to be honest, I acquired my sophomore year, before I trimmed down).

I had second thoughts on more than one of them. To be certain, I would put the shirt on and show it to The Gryphon. "Too big, right?" I'd ask.

"Yes, too big."

Last year I had the same problem with my hippie skirts: imported, patchwork, embroidered. When I gave them away, I vowed I'd get new ones so I'd have something to wear when I was feeling, well, groovy. So I hit some thrift stores while visiting my brother and his wife in Vermont and found several hippie skirt replacements.

Now, I've vowed to do the same with my hippie shirts.

Most of these shirts are imported Indian garments, labeled "free size," which means "one size fits most." I remember, while shopping for them, that I opted to the larger end of the "free size" racks. So it shouldn't be much of a surprise they no longer fit.

I would have just donated them to Goodwill, but I know my brother's wife will need maternity clothes very soon, and I'd feel better seeing them stay in the family for now. Silly, I'll admit, but still true.

One of the reasons it's hard to part with these shirts is I felt pretty while wearing them. I got most of them at times when I wasn't feeling so good about myself, and I bought them as a way of treating myself, of making myself feel more positive about how I looked. It worked.

The other strange thing is that I've been losing weight so gradually that when I put on a shirt I haven't worn for a long time, as far as I'm concerned, it's the shirt that's grown. This can be either amusing or disconcerting.

But it is time to give these cherished clothes away, so that someone else can enjoy them. I'm going to give my brother's wife permission to sell the shirts she can't use at a consignment store, then use the money to buy herself some maternity clothes that do work.

So either she or someone else will perhaps find some new favorite shirts, something that makes them feel good about themselves. Something that makes them feel exotic and pretty.

Copyright 2004 by Alyce Wilson

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