I bought my first maternity wear shirt from Old Navy yesterday. It’s adorable, brightly floral and with incredibly comfortable ruching down the sides.
I am thrilled with it and look pretty damn great if I do say so myself.
No, dear reader, I am definitely not pregnant. (Definitely, definitely not.) I just have a fairly sizeable beer belly that doesn’t seem to want to disappear despite all of the hiking and Zumba (though my delicious craft beer habit probably has something to do with that). (Déjà vu?)
Alas, if continuing drinking beer means looking just a little bit (or a lot) like I’m pregnant than that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Who knows, maybe it will even get me the good seats on the bus?
The trek to Old Navy to buy my lovely new top was one of my first shopping trips in a long time. Sure, I’ve picked up things here and there when necessary but this was the first time I went near a store on my own without a buddy in tow.
Clothing is one of my biggest obsessions. I love to design clothes and style combinations (my stick figure drawings always have the best dresses) and I always plan my outfits out the night before. (Sometimes I plan out all of my outfits for the week on Sunday night making sure to match the right Robot Necklace with the right top. I definitely wouldn’t want them to clash!)
In fact, my planning of outfits and clothing obsessions tie in quite nicely with my OCD. It has always been a compulsion for me. I hang everything up in my closet facing exactly the same way, keeping styles separate (never mixing my plain tank tops, patterned tops, collared shirts together and so on and so forth) and I sometimes buy dozens (ok, four at most) of the same shirt when I find a style I like. Many of the items in my closet and drawers are actually colour coded.
Ok. All of them are colour coded. Every single one.
And while I often look fairly stylish (*wink wink*) this is definitely a habit I am trying to curb. (The compulsive shopping, not the colour coding. Colour coding your clothing is just sensible.)
Shopping for clothing has always been my pick me up when times are tough. It is just as much my way of feeling good about myself and reaffirming that I am worth it as it is my way of rewarding myself and celebrating when things go well.
You know, except on the days where it totally backfires and I just end up feeling terrible in everything I try on and go home to eat an entire bag of salt ‘n’ vinegar chips dipped in Vanilla yogurt (yes, this actually tastes surprisingly good.). This usually results in more shopping in a desperate attempt to repair the damage of the day before.
But no more!
I have spent the last 6 months working hard to curb my shopping habits and I am doing this not just for the sake of my wallet and my exploding closet, but to sever the emotional relationship I have developed with stores like Reitman’s. It’s been hard but it’s been worth it.
I no longer feel the need to celebrate every milestone with a new pair of jeans or to drown my sorrows in cotton and denim. Learning to understand my own emotions rather than just bury them in adorable and not-quite affordable chiffon tops is something that was long overdue for me.
I am proud of the progress I have made and yesterday I felt a massive sense of relief going into a store and not feeling the immediate urge to buy every single thing that I liked even a little bit (in all four available colours).
Instead I was able to pick up the items I needed, including a stretchy new floral top to accommodate my cuddly tummy.
And it was great.
Dear reader, habits can be changed for the better and while it may be hard it’s almost always worth it.
(This filler post brought to you by the “I have nothing really else to talk about” section of my brain. Thank you for stopping by.)