Dear Size Two Khaki Pants:
You were a mind-fuck when I bought you. I was not a size two - I was a fatty, had always been and always would be. I tried a six, a four - both too big. How could it be that such a tiny number fit my enormous body? And yet you fit, you buttoned; I could sit down and you were comfortable. The fact that you were on sale made you even more comfortable.
Alas, Khaki Kants, I can no longer have you in my wardrobe. I have gained weight since that fateful day at New York & Company, and you are uncomfortably snug. It is possible that you shrank - the Size Two Black Pants I also purchased still fit fine - but the former scenario is equally likely.
Does this bother me? I'd be lying if I said it didn't. But it's really your loss, as you won't be accompanying me to Miami this weekend. My much older, Size-Unknown Khaki Pants will have that privilege.
-Lisa
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3 comments:
I am so amused that you found a useful scenario for that title. :D
i have been there so many times. these days i wear 8s. i'm usually okay with that. but i know, somewhere, in my sick little minds, i'd be less than disappointed do fit into a (sick!) size 2 again. great posts,by the way
Man, I wish I could say adios to a few pair of jeans I have in my closet.
I am so glad you left those khakis and instead brought the size unknown khaki pants.
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