Packrat.

[porphyrin]

This morning, among other things, I dropped off a bunch of clothes, books, and miscellaneous stuff (including three thermometers, although they didn't want the fourth) at Youthlink.

I got out my summer clothes and put them in the closet.  I put away my winter clothes.

I went through every box in the goddamn closet.

There are 2 boxes of Size 12 Nice Clothes, and I mean *nice* clothes, waiting for me to lose weight.

There is an *entire suitcase* of Size 10 niceness. 

I couldn't afford, now, to buy anything half as nice as these clothes.

I haven't been able to fit into the Size 12 for the last 3 years.

I don't know that I ever will.

I'm really torn between selling the damn things (out of my house!  out!  you take up space!) and keeping them In The Event of Cachexia.

My war with my packrat instincts (and my husband's EVERYTHING MUST GO SINCE WE ARE MOVING commandment) and my knowledge of the budget (IF I lose weight, I can never afford to replace these) are going head to head.

Advice? 

Comments

[janne.livejournal.com]

I'd say: Give them a new home where they'll be appreciated now rather than wait and maybe have to ditch them because they're aged beyond use in some years. Getting into 'thin' clothing is a happiness-inducing enough event in its own that it doesn't need to be all that fancy. (Which reminds me: I had this really wonderful outfit I bought in London once which I kept lugging around in determined hope of dieting into it again, even turning down a thin friend who offered me good money for it. And then it met with a little accident, so now I've neither outfit nor money. Ce la vie! I've become somewhat better at getting rid of surplus clothing after that :)