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Sunday, December 15, 2013

My Gold Brocade Slacks

On the long journey to a healthy weight, during one of the more successful periods when the scale was going down instead of up, I went shopping at a boutique.  I love to stop in little boutique-ey stores and poke among the pretties but I never buy clothes in them. I never even look at their clothing. Small little shops that have one off clothing never have big sizes - and big in those shops means a 12. The humiliation of flipping through a rack of size zeros and ones is a powerful teacher and I soon learned to stop looking.

Still and all, that early summer day there was, on the rack of winter sale items, a pair of gold brocade slacks - slim cut in the hip and marked a size 12. Also, they were marked down from some triple digit price to something like $24. The fabric was rich looking, tightly woven in a textured arabesque, not shiny or vulgar, definitely a luxury cloth. The pants were lined, too and they were narrow at the point where one's leg joins one's torso and the top had a curved bias piece tapering into the waist with no waistband at all.

They also matched, perfectly, the Christmas fantasy image in my head of me in a pair of gorgeous tan/gold slacks and a big cream colored pullover sweater ... lounging on a big couch in an elegant living room, with a fire, candlelight, wine, some quiet music and oh - hmmm - George Clooney looking at me with gleaming admiration .

So - so.

So I actually stepped into that foreign spot - a boutique dressing room - and tried them on. Well. Hmm. I couldn't zip them up. I could pull them on, though and I could still see that they were cut to work with my type of body - zero behind, bony hip join, fluffy upper hip, pouchy tummy, not enough inches between hip bone and rib cage.  And though I don't believe in buying clothes that don't fit, not only because I have limited closet space, but also because it's a kind of rejection of self to spend clothing $ on some other body, I plunked down that $24 - because I also knew that I wasn't going to see these fantasy fulfilling slacks again and I was bound and determined to turn that fantasy into a reality. (well, maybe not the George Clooney part ... but you never know)

So I bought them.  I actually forget what year it was. They lived in the attic over the summer but came down in cool weather.  I know I couldn't zip them that first Christmas, but I remember the day I announced at the WW meeting that I could at finally zip them up. Maybe I wouldn't wear them out anywhere, but they zipped at last - and that was spring of 2012. Last winter I wore them several times - because they're so perfect that I can dress them up or down - wear them to work or on a date. I even found the big cream colored pullover sweater to wear with them last Christmas (and finding that was a hilarious tale of shopping with BD)

Last night we went to a Christmas Concert in town and I pulled out my Gold Brocade Slacks for the first time and put them on. They felt delicious with their slick lining hugging my thighs while the gold brocade hung freely in a straight line. The zipper made that exciting ziiiiiiip sound as it closed without a struggle. They feel so good and they don't bag at the seat or bulge out at the upper thigh. They make me feel like a Christmas ornament. They are that perfect garment that makes you feel utterly right - and then - lets you forget, completely, about how you look, so you can concentrate on the important things - things like
the beautiful music in glory to God. The delight in being with friends in a hushed and spiritual setting. The camaraderie afterwards when we gather to chat and wish each other good tidings. But they are also a reminder of how you want to still be wearing these wonderful Gold Brocade Slacks on Christmas day - so you can step away from the treat laden tables and pass on the white fruit fudge, the real ginger snaps and the pecan divinity.

Yep. There's nothing like a pair of Gold Brocade Slacks to help you stay on track during the holidays. I hope you all have your own version of them hanging in your closet - or better yet - laid out on the bed to put on tonight.

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