It’s time to tighten our belts.
- Black shirt dress (last seen here) from Ann Taylor Loft– $19.88 on clearance
- Chunky green necklace from Lane Bryant– $15 on sale
- Reversible belt (last seen here) by Betsey Johnson via Filene’s Basement– $16 with coupon
- Leopard print patent platforms from Loehmann’s– $14


We won’t discuss my relapse into BasicBlackAholism. No, no, we’ll just gloss right over that.
Instead, let’s talk for a minute about minor weight fluctuations.
Since I started this site, I have gained and lost weight (estimating, here) within a range of about 10 pounds. Doesn’t sound like a whole lot, but I’m short, and 10 pounds for me is more than one dress size.
I mean, I guess we’re all supposed to have fat jeans and skinny jeans (that is, smaller jeans, not these). But since I lost a more significant amount of weight last year, I only have clothes that fit me within a very narrow size range. (I kept some things from before I lost the weight, sure, but they’re all significantly too big to be of use at this point.)
So if I gain a few pounds, like I did recently with my illness and inactivity? I’m relegated to sweatpants and maybe (at most) 1/3 of my closet. Gretchen and Karen won’t even let me sit at the lunch table with them anymore.
If I had more money, I’d surely buy a few new things, because I’m done with the idea that intentional weight loss (even the loss of 5 or 10 pounds) is the solution. But I don’t, so I can’t. And I run a fashion blog? Wherein I post my photos? So it’s kinda challenging?
Luckily for me, my body is exasperatingly predictable. I’ve already lost at least some of the weight I gained (measuring all of this by clothing fit) as I have begun to recover from the mono. But I admit this whole situation has been frustrating. For all the spandex in my wardrobe, it’s not really big or comprehensive enough to accommodate what should be a normal, accepted vagary of life. Because honestly, the weight thing doesn’t bother me. It’s the not being able to fit into my favorite clothes that bugs me. But if that’s not evidence of clothes, not bodies, being the problem, I don’t know what is.
Now, I’m not suggesting that designers make some sort of magic garment that stretches to accomodate every person at every size (or that we all wear stretch jersey all the time). Of course, seam allowances would be nice. (Remember those? Neither do I. I was born in 1978.)
But it’s good to be reminded that not being able to fit into a particular piece of clothing is less a problem with the individual and more a practical issue with that one particular piece of clothing. You know? You know.
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I love that you made the mean girls reference, because as soon as I saw “sweatpants” it was right on the tip of my tongue
I hear you. I have also given up on intentional weight loss ( <3 Shapely Prose) but life being what it is, things do change from month to month. My boobs grew a few months ago (permanently, due to taking a life-long needed supplement), but after starting running again – I genuinely enjoy it – my waist and butt have shrunk. Which is all very well and good, but while I can fit – in the waist and butt – some stuff in my wardrobe again from when I was smaller, these pieces are still too small in the chest. I'm unpicking a handily unpick-able chest seam on my favouite I-can't-find-it-anywhere-now-and-damn-have-I-tried dress right now.
I find quite a lot of higher-end NZ and Australian women's clothing (this particular dress is from the Aus company Veronika Maine, sister company of Cue) does have seam allowances. Are we a lucky anomaly in this?
Astra, I think so! I’ve only found significant seam allowances in vintage items over here– and that includes high-end stuff from both the States and Europe. I know it’s a cost-cutting thing, but when you’re (theoretically) paying $400 for a dress, I mean…