They're full of pants.
There is a drawer on the left which contains all current wear-able pants. The other drawer, the one with no handle so on the odd occasion I have to open it I'm required to get down on my knees, pull out the drawer above so that I can slide my hand under and kind of jimmy the drawer open, contains more pants. This drawer holds pants that I have, at some point worn.
They generally fall into two size ranges. The 11s and 12s are the ones i used to wear, after losing 65 lbs and before gaining back 25. The ones that I pull out every few weeks and in great anticipation, hike em up as far as my thighs and ass will allow. Sometimes I can button them. Sometimes I can even zip them up, but even after doing so, after sucking in my gut and doing 5-6 squats in an effort to stretch them out, I end up sighing and folding them back up, whispering "soon, my pretties. Soon."
The other ones I don't talk about much. They are the 16-18's. Don't get me wrong. They're nice pants and I don't mean them any ill will, but I hope to hell that they never get moved to the wearable drawer. They are symbolic of how far I came, and how far back I could fall. I haven't kept many of my 'fat clothes'. Just these two or three pairs of jeans.
Before I went on the first leg of my journey, I had a massive clothing purge and donated a large bundle of clothes that I believed I would never wear again. Months later, as I began to lose the weight, I wished I could have some of those things back (Ramones T-shirt, I still miss you, and think of you every day). I've almost never missed any of my bigger clothes, with the exception of my leather pants and the polka-dot dress that I tried to take in, but I'm kind of a shitty seamstress.
Over the last few months since putting some of the weight back on and moving many of my pants into the 'No-Wear' drawer, i've been wearing a lot of dresses. Pants have not been my friend, especially work wise. I've recently moved a pair of work pants from the no-wear drawer to the wear-drawer so that's opened my options a bit, but on the whole, pants are kind of bullshit.
|"Don't you hate pants?"|
This is an old picture, but you get the idea.
Pants. Pants, pants, pants. I just like saying it. (You know, this post could make a pretty decent drinking game. Pants.)
Oh, sorry. Kind of drifted off there.
I guess because of the way I am built - decent chest, some semblance of a waist, ALL ASS (which is why I will forever love Freddy Mercury.. you're right, we DO make the rocking world go round!) - pants are a bone of contention more than any other type of clothing. There's so many types I feel restricted from wearing:
Low-rise: Only if you're interested in being exposed to 17" of asscrack
Skinny jeans: Nope, not with the leg thing.
Pleated fronts: Well, why would anyone want to? yeeesh.
So one of the things that I look forward to is greater pants-buying freedom (okay, everyone take a shot!). There's this pre-conceived notion in the pants-designing world that if you wear a 14 or a 16, then you are some kind of Amazon - Old Navy, I'm looking at you! After losing the initial weight, I enjoyed wearing pants that didn't require extensive hemming, because as mentioned, my skills as a seamstress are below par.
I look forward to it again. I'm going to end off this post with a track from my friend BigNic, entitled, appropriately - "Pants". Now Drink!