While I was clearing out the under bed boxes yesterday I found my smaller clothes stash. The things I kept from when I lost so much weight and that I outgrew as I put some back on. I pulled it all out and tried on a few things. My jeans right now are a little loose so I was thinking the jeans I had in the box might be perfect. They aren't. They are a little small. And the few shirts I had in there and the skirts and shorts were as well. So I folded them back up and put them back under the bed thinking maybe later. Then last night as I was lying awake wondering why the hell I ever wanted a cat in the first place I thought about those clothes again. And had to ask myself why I was keeping them. The jeans, well they were fine, they are just a little snug, they might fit fine at the end of the summer when my work outs tone my legs a touch more. Or they might not but the are really just a touch small. But the skirts and the shorts? The shorts were size 4 and the skirts size 2. I'm in a loose 8 right now and have no desire to lose more weight. Just keep what I have toned. So why did I keep those super small things? Knowing that I don't even look good at that size? Knowing that I shouldn't EVER EVER try to be that size again?
Then today as I was cleaning out my jewelry box I realized that my grandmother's crystals were gone. This is also the jewelry I wore on my wedding day. I looked where I thought they should be and nothing. The box I thought they were in held the necklace my in-laws gave me at my high school graduation, but nothing else. The panic was starting to hit and I was getting that sick feeling in my stomach. Had I somehow tossed them out accidentally during another purge? Had they fallen off the shelf and gotten sucked up on the vacuum? Where could they be? Then I thought about it and sort of remembered putting them someplace else last time I cleaned up the closet. I looked and they were there. Whew. I was so relieved. But there was something else in the storage box with my grandmother's crystals.
My Tiffany key chain. Seventeen years ago when I worked for the Garcias Shelly got all of us a key chain like this for Christmas. I can remember getting the little blue box with the white ribbon and the thrill of thinking I would now own something from Tiffanys! Me! Trailer trash perennially poor kid, owning something from Tiffanys! Well as you can tell by looking at it, there it has sat for seventeen years. In the little cloth bag, in the baby blue box. I'm not sure how long the white ribbon traveled with it but in one of the 6(!!) times we've changed houses since receiving the gift I let the ribbon go. But not the key chain. Nor have I ever used it. Why? Well, it's impractical. It's heavy as all get out. And the monogram bugs my OCD nature. I know it's a style and design thing but it looks to me like the D is backwards. And that makes my teeth itch.
But I've kept it. I've lovingly packed it from place to place. I've pulled it out and looked at it, made sure the silver wasn't tarnishing. The put it all back away. Stored with my grandmother's crystals, and her reading glasses and a ring from Brent's father. All things I could have told you yesterday that I had and what they meant. I had forgotten about this. Like I always do when it's not right in my line of site. Never used, but always kept. Why?
Because it's from Tiffany & Co.
Now today as I looked at it I had to shake my head. If I want something from Tiffanys I could go downtown to the store and pick out something I would actually wear. I could buy it for myself or mention to Brent what a lovely Christmas gift it would make and just wait. I'm not that girl anymore. That girl who can't have things if she wanted them. Who has to make due with marking what she would buy if she could in the catalog and calling that good enough.
And obviously I never was the kind of girl who needed something from Tiffany & Co. either. I just thought I should be. Part of me still gets wrapped up in a designer name. In a flashy tag. In that "you can't have this" vibe. Because for a big portion of my life I couldn't. It wasn't a choice, it just wasn't going to happen. Now I can get some of those things if I want them. But when push comes to shove, I'm just not a brand status gal. Sure I drive a BMW, but I drive a BMW because it's a solid car. And I drive a low level BMW. I drove a Civic until we went down to just one car. And I loved my Civic as much as you can love a car. Brent and I are thinking about getting a new (to us, used new) car soon and will probably get another BMW because they are good cars. Though I am loving the new Audi commercials enough that I might want to at least test drive one and pretend I'm Spock.
So today the shorts, the skirts and the Tiffany key chain all ended up in the Goodwill pile. And there they will sit for the next two weeks while I take the mandatory "Are you sure?" rest period I deemed necessary after the great miscalculated purge of 97. Then they will all go to Goodwill. Where hopefully someone with the initials DLM can make use of it.
Because just like those shorts and skirts this key chain doesn't fit me.
And it never will.
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