I had to buy a clothes horse for my mother today. She lives in an apartment and there is some sort of rule that forbids people from hanging washing out on their balcony in apparent bid to prevent them from looking like they are in China. So my mother has to wrestle a clothes horse, that is large enough to cope with sheets, but therefore taller than her, out of her front door and onto a bit of area that can not be seen and hang her washing out there.
I found the one she wanted today, it is the same style as the one she has, but smaller, cheaper and ironically made in China. Hopefully it will make the business of doing the laundry a little easier for her, although if she wants to make her life really easy, she should adopt a policy approach that I developed years ago and never buy clothes that need ironing.
I have never been any good at clothes, possibly for the reason that for many years of my adult life, I have been overweight and so no matter what I wear, I basically look like a watermelon draped in fabric. When you are slim (as I have been occasionally) you can pretty much get away with wearing anything and look good – jeans and a white T shirt, fitted neutral trousers with just about anything, skirts – these are just some of the items of clothing that I have heard talked about.
Regardless of size, I have always had the ability to look as though clothes had been thrown at me, rather than we being worn by me. They fight me all the way. They hang off bits of me where they are meant to fit and they cling like billio just at the point where it would not hurt to cut me some slack.
My no-iron policy probably does not help me, because it invariable means that the clothes I wear all contain lycra at varying degrees of concentration, so they not only cling around bumpy bits, they also help me to sweat. Thank you, 1980s.
A favourite film of mine is, The Fisher King and I love the scene where Robin Williams gets dressed up for a date. The suit he has is ridiculous and huge, and he hems the trousers with an office stapler, punching staples through the fabric to create a hem. That is exactly the sort of thing I would do.
Just before Xmas, I was just about able to get into the trousers and clothes I had bought the last time I lost a load of weight – and when I say got in to, I mean technically, there was not so much a muffin top as a lava flow over the waistband.
I am keen to get back into the eating patterns that helped me to shed a few kilos VERY SLOWLY during the second half of 2016 and have the food locked in, I just now have to stop drinking wine. Once that target is achieved (and I am aiming for Monday) I will hopefully start to lose a bit more weight … slowly. It has been slow. Did I mention the slowness? Because ‘patience’ is right up there with ‘fashion’ on my list of impossible things.
To all those aiming for a healthier 2017, I raise a glass to you. It is wine tonight, but it will be water in under 48 hours, Salut!