I've mentioned a few times that I "have no clothes" and I'd explain it at a later date. I touched on the subject in Monday's post, but here's a more in-depth rundown. When we planned our family vacation with my dad's extended family in June, my husband wasn't going to come. We couldn't afford to rent a van (which we'd need for two adults, two children, two dogs, and all the things for a week-long haul) AND have him lose money from not being at work. So, in an effort to raise the money we needed for traveling and cover his loss, I sold our household decorative items that weren't necessary and a ton of my clothes. NOT because anyone asked me to, but because I knew where the money-making items were in the house and I wanted, pretty much more than anything, for my husband to get a break from work and get to spend some time with his girls (and me). Between shelving, shadow boxes, wall art, some donated items from a friend, and a hefty chunk of my wardrobe, I raised $1000 in the nick of time.
It was SO.WORTH.IT. We had an awesome time, Hubs got to really bond with the girls, I got a little bit (reiterate: little bit) of a break because he was there to share parental duty with me.
But, with the memories saved and the seasons changing, I'm taking a big hit with my half-missing wardrobe. I sold brand new jeans that I had yet to hem. Tags still on and everything. And I knew only clothing in good shape would make good money, so I sold some of my best things. Nothing items that I was emotionally attached to, but things I wore and things I loved... things I go to grab, now, and they aren't there.
And I'm in this funky "nothing fits" time of life where the bulk of what I got rid of was the size that I am right now. I have maternity clothes or clothes that are XL/XXL that I bought for pregnancy and after, which hang all over me like a paper bag (not in the cute J.Crew way). And I have 10/12 bottoms and medium tops, which I'm not anywhere near right now. I just never knew how emotional I'd be about stuff and things. It's sort of embarrassing to say that I miss my clothes. But what I miss is wearing things that make me feel pretty and good and not having to rig some jeans that don't fit and layer a zillion things so you don't see lines and rolls. It's a part of me- in my nature- to dress nicely. Dress well and feel well. And right now, my emotions and my attitude feel like a moppy t-shirt and ill fitting yoga pants.
Is it wrong to pray for a shopping fairy?