Like any addict I started small, working my way up from shoes to sequins to vintage novelty anything. Then it began as a means to keep up with the competition: if a blogger was talking about it, I wanted it, or if I thought it would be an upcoming trend, I had to have it. It was at a point where I felt this compulsive need to constantly be checking what was new, and "in", and on the backs of my fashion icons.
I had it all planned. I was going to make so much money selling my clothes. Like anyone else, I maintain that my collection of clothes is damn near priceless. I schlepped my bag to the nearest Kind Exchange with hopes of finally starting that 'Waterfront Condo (a.k.a. the New Pair of Shoes) Fund'. Finally she gave me the number I had been waiting to hear: "$11.56." What?!
I have gained some weight and am at my biggest to date in these 22 years. At this size, the only way I'm participating in any of the new fashions is if I get some serious alterations, mainly in the booty region. The worst part about my struggle with ill-fitting clothes was that I didn't want anyone to think less of me as a fashionista. I am ashamed that my concern with my weight gain was not my health or well-being, but what I could no longer wear nor buy.