Saturday, March 31, 2012

Pots

I think I'm having an identity crisis of sorts, at least as seen through the evidence of my clothes. Recently, I decided to give up the ghost and accept the reality of my new body shape. I wasn't heavy exactly, but things have shifted around. So I gave away a small bag of my tiniest clothes and bought some sad elastic waist pants. Haha. And then, voila--the last of my post-baby weight melted away and the pants sag every time I wear them. The other of my 3 purchases so far this year was also a failure, a pair of Eileen Fisher pants. The brand fits my demographic, but not me, which is a lesson to me in rule-making when it comes to fashion. In my defense, I couldn't try them on because I had a sleeping baby strapped to me at the time.

But all in all, I'm not entirely dissatisfied. The pants themselves were only a dollar and a half each, and it's super easy to give away clothes on FreeCycle and thus avoid the landfill while making some poor student or resident hippie happy.

But I haven't written much lately because I haven't had much interest in talking about clothes, though I still like reading what other people have to say. I wonder if it was the acquisition of things that kept the obsession going. I haven't gotten a lot, and every time I think about getting a new thing, knowing that I'll have to record that purchase--at least for my own sake if not on the blog--keeps me honest.

But I've just been interested in things rather different from the style world. I've been trying to make more things from scratch, like bread, yogurt, and even laundry detergent;, moving on to using cloth diapers;  planning our next foraging trip (the wild leeks should be coming up soon!), and otherwise making tiny incremental changes toward a more simple, unadorned life. We'll be moving in August to a new space, a 2-bedroom with loft in what used to be a turn-of-the century pottery mill belonging to the university's founder. I'll be one block from a waterfall and gorge. It'll definitely be nicer, though in some odd way I'll miss our current dwelling and our hermit pothead upstairs neighbor, who likes to hang out his window in fine weather and herald all our comings and goings.