Holy crap. This outfit, which I swear to God had fit flatteringly three weeks ago, suddenly bagged, sagged, and generally made me look frumpy and awful. The 16R pencil skirt that I bought back in March, which had carried me faithfully through several months of gradual weight loss, no longer flattered. The extra fabric around the hips, butt and thighs created a voluminously puffy silhouette (not pencil… think marshmallow), and the now-roomy waist allowed the skirt to slink down to below my belly button, causing the skirt's hem to hit my calves in a way that God never intended.
I ran upstairs, and, in the dark, attempted an outfit change. Ran downstairs. Gasp! This outfit wouldn't do either!
Once more, with gusto! Crap, no dice!
On my fourth try, I finally landed on an acceptable pair of trousers, which, although a little roomy, fall well enough that I don't feel like I'm wearing a pinstriped sack. Paired with a hand-me-down tee that is still a little snug to wear on its own, together with a black cardigan, I had a passable outfit. (Note: I have since cinched together the extra waist fabric with a small binder clip in the back of the trousers, and thanks to the cardigan's coverage, it is not noticeable).
So, here I am again, faced with a closet full of clothes that suddenly don't fit. I have somehow lost my miracle belt, which, with its waist-cinching and defining power, was my secret weapon in making too-large clothes still look flattering.
I am going to have to go into my closet later tonight and evaluate the clothing that I have in there, to see what fits and what needs to be stored away in a Rubbermaid tote in the basement.
What is a girl to do… especially when said girl is on a limited budget?
Over the weekend, I picked up a book at Borders, which, as you may know, is going out of business, and liquidating [what is left of] their inventory. So, I got this book (the Pocket Stylist by Kendall Farr) at a great discount, thinking that, as I near my weight goal, I can strategically create and augment my wardrobe so that I have a collection of clothing that will last me forever and remain stylish.
Little did I know that purchasing this book on a whim would really come in handy. I read through it yesterday, and was tantalized by the idea that clothes that I loved but no longer fit into could be tailored to fit my shrinking form, and that I could add fashionable clothes to my wardrobe by having them made out of simple patterns by a local tailor. Or…. Drumroll please…. That I could make these clothes myself using my long-dormant sewing skills and my [dusty but powerful] sewing machine!
A little known fact about [crazy-eyed, little ol'] me is that sewing is in my blood. Oh yes. That may sound a little dramatic, but it is true. Not only are my grandmother and aunt talented seamstresses who learned their craft in the old country and who taught me how to sew during my childhood, but my mother also forced my sister and I to take sewing classes from a local woman when we were teenagers.
So, I have some latent talent, even though I've only sewn curtains in the past decade, and haven't attempted to make my own clothing since 1996. But I'm coming back with a bang. Or at least, that's my [crazy-eyed] plan.
Honestly, I'm not sure it is even feasible. Time is an issue. I remember that sewing clothes is a time-consuming process if you aren't in the habit. And, maybe I'm not as good at sewing as I remember being…
However, in the interest of experimentation, I am going to check out some patterns at www.mccalls.com, picking out an "easy" skirt or dress, and seeing if I can bribe my aunt into giving me a weekend's worth of refresher instruction.
If I can't do it, one of my neighbors is a phenomenal seamstress, and I will see how much she will charge me to make a couple of simple items.