I gave away my favorite pants by accident last week. It was bound to happen. When I’m cleaning the closet in a self-righteous Spring-induced charitable mood, things move fast.
I piled clothes on the bed in categories: Things I don’t wear, new things I wish I’d never bought, (A hanging price tag is a reproach) and the biggest bunch of all, things that don’t fit anymore.
While bundling all of this together to donate to the Family Service Thrift Store, I spotted a blouse that was a maybe – a great color – it might still work. Better try it on before giving up on it. I grabbed my favorite sleek black pants from the closet and put on the blouse. Nope, still not a fit.
So, two giant armloads of clothes into the back seat and two giant armloads of clothes dropped off, and I went about my other errands.
Next day I went to the closet for my favorite pants and they weren’t there. You can see where this is headed. Back to the thrift store. Since they were nowhere in the house, that’s where they were likely to be. I had delivered my custom tailored pants for resale and not on purpose. Who does something that dumb?
A lot of people do, judging from the reaction of the volunteers at the thrift shop. I’m happy to buy them back, I said. They were sorry, but they had already tagged last week’s merchandise, which was now hanging in the store. Just go out there and find them.
There was half a hope my pants would still be in the store. I’m a tough fit – very long legs. Those pants wouldn’t interest just anybody. I looked. I’d know my pants anywhere, and they weren’t on the racks. Already sold. I started to grieve immediately. A woman and her favorite black pants – that’s a serious relationship.
Not only did I not get a chance to say goodbye, not only did I not leave them on purpose, but because they’ve now left me and moved on to another owner, they seem so much more important in retrospect. I tell myself it’s best to let go of the past, forget I ever knew them. But I know I won’t. Every time I pass a woman with long legs wearing sleek black pants with a certain fit, I’ll do a double-take. Because by now, of course, those pants have become, in memory, the best pants in the whole world and I am convinced I’ll never love any other pants again in exactly the same way.
Ó By Anita Garner
Hammy, you know that book, “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff”?? You should have a look. :-)) You gave me my first good laugh of the day. Thanks!
Having known Nita Faye for more than a few moons … I can testify that the lady is (indeed) a fashion plate when it comes to wearing properly tailored attire. Fortunately, for me … those “style and size days” are but a fading memory in the rear view mirror of life. THESE days my clothing needs simply boil down to heading to the local mega-store and picking up one o’ them small, clear plastic bags marked — “6 pairs to a pack; fits sizes 10 through 13; white only.”
Don’t feel bad; its got some real social advantages. For instance, I never have to cringe about being invited to attend another black tie formal. See, ain’t no way I’d get past some red velvet rope holder while wearing my old disco tux … and a fresh pair of Wal-Mart gym socks showing around the ankles.
Yeah, but what if …?
Well, I guess if there was a community list of CC&R’s for fashion violations — I’d have been cited, fined and had my closet seized 10 years ago. So far, no sign of black helicopters, or reps from the Sierra Club. But I’m watchin’.
Meanwhile I better go put some pants on. It’s almost noon!
Morg
this is the saddest story i’ve ever heard. i mean, even the gift of the magi girl GOT SOMETHING BACK for her poorly thought out gift-giving!