Clothes I own (and wear) but probably shouldn't.

I'll never forget walking down a street in Kathmandu, Nepal when I saw a girl walking towards me wearing Aladdin pants. She looked awesome. Seriously. She had on a tank top and the pants looked like she'd just sort of thrown them on and they made her waist look small and her walk look casual and I couldn't get myself to a stall fast enough to buy myself a pair of those pants in purple! Then I returned to Colorado and on my first walk down the street, my friend Phil shouted, "Can't touch this!" and started to do the MC Hammer dance on his driveway. I hope for your sake that you have no idea who MC Hammer is. I looked down at the long elephant butt crutch and the ballooning legs waiting for his words to shatter the spell, but no. I still love those pants. In my mind, I look just like the bohemian twenty year old and no amount of crab walking from Phil or anyone else can talk me out of those things.

I wish that were the only pair of pants in my wardrobe that people have begged me not to wear.

Then there is the blue dress. Oh man, the fabric is so soft, the skirt is loose and flirty and the top has enough ruffles on it that you actually can't tell if I have boobs, let alone boobs in or out of a bra. There is only one problem, the dress has an elastic waist. It's supposed to be worn around my waist, but I actually don't have one. I mean there is this very, very, short runway between my breasts and my hips but when I put on a dress like this, it just disappears and I turn in to Humpty Dumpty. I still wear it though, mostly I wear it when I'm at home because if Oprah suddenly comes to the door to hand me a million dollars, I don't want to be in my pyjamas while the cameras role and I cry with joy, but there's also a chance she might not pitch up in which case, I'd like to be very comfortable while I go about the glamorous work that is housekeeping.

And there is the box of thin clothes. The thing is, I saved all these clothes I was wearing when I was twenty five because they motivated me to get back to that weight after I'd had two children. I just didn't consider that two children would...you know....change things. So here I am, seven years later, back to the size I was before but shockingly, the clothes just don't look quite right. I look in the mirror and think, "Oh so this is what they mean when they say "Mutton dressed as Ham"." Still, I can't seem to let go of those clothes. There's a dress in there that I wore on our honeymoon and though it's not a great dress or anything, not particularly well made or classic in style and I probably wouldn't notice its absence if my house burnt down, I still put it on from time to time when the kids are asleep and my husband is doing a late night run to the grocery store, and in low light, after a few drinks, it looks just like it used to.

PS. No photos were used in this article since I know you well meaning readers would lie and say, "It doesn't look that bad," and further enable the bad dresser in me.