A Curious Girl: Old clothes

It's funny, I'm trying to clear out old clothes and finding it harder than I thought.

It's even hard with clothes I never really liked in the first place. I have a fairly plain cream sweater, which is actually slightly blue, thanks to being in a fairly hot wash with some blue jogging bottoms after I got both items very muddy on a long walk for our Duke of Edinburgh award practice. It also got used during a dance we did to Mistletoe and Wine. It seems like a shame to throw it out, like it's somehow precious to the memory it's linked with. Perhaps I should be a historian, because I hate getting rid of mementoes, even when I know perfectly well that my memory will serve without the memento.

Or there are other reasons why it's hard. I feel almost guilty for having to throw out a frilly blue top Abi gave me for my baptism. The thing is, it's too small for me and looks silly, and I'm not holding onto anything with the vague hope that I'll lose weight because that's just depressing. But it'd feel a little like throwing Abi out with it. Which is very silly, since a more sensible course of action would be to give Abi a call and forget about the top.

And there's a gothy top that I adored from the moment I saw it in the shop. It's black (with a bit of purple), short and exposes my midriff a bit and has trailing sleeves. If I got rid of that I feel like I'd be denying myself the chance to be as beautiful and interesting as I feel wearing it. It's funny. Susie Orbach says in Fat is a Feminist Issue that we often ascribe characteristics to our 'fat' that we should really ascribe to ourselves, such as seeing that our 'fat' possesses power or warmth or kindness when it does no such thing, and we wouldn't be less powerful or warm or kind if we were thinner. I think I do the same with clothes - I feel like I'm consigning myself to ugliness if I get rid of any of my pretty clothes, even if I'd look silly trying to wear them. But it seems far too bold to dare to believe that I myself am beautiful and different and interesting... And that even when I'm not wearing a pretty top with very impractical sleeves that I'm still the sort of person who can carry off long traily sleeves very well.

Maybe I should just go shopping! It's funny, I even don't want to throw away my long stripy socks (four pairs thereof) although I'm probably not going to wear them thanks to holes at the heels. I bought some new short socks at Ł2 for five pairs at Primark (thanks Sian for the tip) but it seems wrong not to own any long stripy socks, even if I'm not going to wear them. I seem to have some difficulty believing that I possess any individuality at all without some individual clothing. I guess it's because I've never really felt 'normal' and I feel embarrassed in conversations with 'normal' people, waiting for them to discover that I am, in fact, a weirdo. It's easier by far to just be a weirdo, but I don't really trust my tongue to do all the work. It's safe to have individual looking clothes that I can take off when individuality doesn't look like a good idea. It seems far more dangerous to accept the truth that I am an individual and will always be and had better get used to it.

The thing is, whenever I get in the mode of thought that I so wish I were normal, and I so wish that I didn't find myself having to say stuff that makes me sound weird, like how I don't like football much, don't like getting drunk (longtime readers of this diary will know this is partly due to personal experience)... And of course I'm a Christian and I go to church and I talk to God and actually following God is the most important thing in my life (not, I might add, to be confused with religiosity or piousness, which is more about looking holy than being holy)... whenever I wish that I didn't have to say these things or even think them because it's so embarrassing being 'different', I get the feeling that God is distinctly insulted.

"Helen, I made you this way. I think being the creator, I know best, don't you agree? I made you to live my way, so don't settle for anything less!"

And I think God would even feel insulted if I simply pretended not to like long stripy socks. After all, he made me into the sort of person who does :)

Isn't it strange (and slightly worrying) that I'm still going on about all the same things I went on about nearly five years ago? Actually I think I've made a least a little progress since then!

Random word for today: epoch

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