We won't speak of the 3 pairs of Ann Taylor pants sitting in my closet fresh from the dry cleaner that shant be worn again, lest we inflict on the world a case of Dumpy Bum and Baggy Crotch. Or the J Crew cords that fit me for a fleeting moment before my bum disappeared into the Sag.
Good bye, dear pants, I loved you well. And I will love your smaller siblings, too, just as I have learned to love all those core planks on Saturday mornings.
1 comment:
transformation comes in all kinds of sizes!!
i know this feeling.. losing the familiar wardrobe... discovering a different physical self.
joy and discovery.
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