Cleaning out the closets
After finally joining the modern world and getting a DVR a few weeks ago, I've become obsessed with recording (and watching) "What Not to Wear." I confess I harbor hopes that someone will nominate me and I'll get $5,000 and some fashion advice to buy a whole new wardrobe. I'd even deal with Stacey and Clinton making snide, sarcastic comments about my current selection of clothes.
They'd probably make me cry, but I'd deal. The pair on the British show -- Trinny
and Susannah - would be better, at least they both had babies recently so they'd understand my postpartum body issues.
However I realize I don't dress badly enough to nominate myself and get picked and I doubt any of my friends have enough guts. So instead of being used to make fun of me on national TV, all the clothing that no longer works for me is going to Sojourner House, a transitional home for women and children in crisis. They need it. I don't.
Because I have to face it, I'm Almost Thirty and a professional woman; I don't need to be shopping in the juniors department. Nor do I need to hang onto the clothes that I'll wear when "I lose a few pounds." I've lost a few. They still don't fit. The tags are still on them.
So goodbye blue pinstripe suit from 1995 that my mum gave me in case I needed it for a job interview. Goodbye Corn Hill Arts Festival dress that didn't fit me when I tried it on over a t-shirt and still doesn't now. Goodbye sexy mid-twenty-something little shirts that kept the tips coming at coffeeshop gigs. They say clothes that are too small make you look fatter, rather than slimmer, and we certainly don't need any of that.
They'd probably make me cry, but I'd deal. The pair on the British show -- Trinny
and Susannah - would be better, at least they both had babies recently so they'd understand my postpartum body issues.
However I realize I don't dress badly enough to nominate myself and get picked and I doubt any of my friends have enough guts. So instead of being used to make fun of me on national TV, all the clothing that no longer works for me is going to Sojourner House, a transitional home for women and children in crisis. They need it. I don't.
Because I have to face it, I'm Almost Thirty and a professional woman; I don't need to be shopping in the juniors department. Nor do I need to hang onto the clothes that I'll wear when "I lose a few pounds." I've lost a few. They still don't fit. The tags are still on them.
So goodbye blue pinstripe suit from 1995 that my mum gave me in case I needed it for a job interview. Goodbye Corn Hill Arts Festival dress that didn't fit me when I tried it on over a t-shirt and still doesn't now. Goodbye sexy mid-twenty-something little shirts that kept the tips coming at coffeeshop gigs. They say clothes that are too small make you look fatter, rather than slimmer, and we certainly don't need any of that.
Silandara Bartlett-Gustina was a Rochester outsider when she moved to the city at the turn of the millennium without even laying eyes on it. She quickly took root, declaring it the best place she's lived (including the UK, several U.S. states and Barbados). Now on the brink of her 30s, she's somehow transformed into a wife, mom, homeowner and freelancer. But she's determined to still have a life -- giving you an inside look at what makes Rochester a cool place to call home.
