Fat Rolls and Fond Memories

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Fat Rolls and Fond Memories

Fat rolls and fond memories


I have been ruthless and the cull has gone well. The charity shop will be happy. Clothes that I have held on to for years, in the hope that I will lose weight and return to the single digit size I wore when I was just out of my teens, now fill the black, plastic garbage bags.

I glide over the fact that most are out of fashion and cling to the hope that maybe someone else will be able to get some use from them. Why do I continue to do this to myself? Hold on to clothes that I wore years and years ago, and which I have no hope in hell of ever fitting into again. Like the life coaches say, I’ve got to stop hanging on to the past and be honest with myself – I’m never going to be that young skinny minny ever again! That time in my life has ended and there’s no going back.

I poke my head back into my wardrobe. I’ve left my favourite dress till last. There it hangs, faithfully waiting for me. Just looking at this dress makes me smile – it brings back so many memories. Like a matador flourishing his cape, I grab the coat hanger and whip out this last item of clothing from my recently denuded wardrobe.

Now, I’m a budding young actress in a cheesy Doris Day movie and I hold my dress up against me and dance before my full-length mirror. Small moments of happiness flash through my mind as I remember the parties and dinners I wore this dress to. Memories of dancing for hours and sneaking home just before curfew come flooding back. The joy of laughter and fun times, old friends and new, growing up and dreams for the future form part of the fabric I now hold against me. I remember feeling carefree and confident and attractive – what I wouldn’t give to feel like that now!

The black plastic bags are impatiently waiting for me, their slippery ebony mouths gaping open in anticipation of this last tasty morsel. As the stash inside them gently topples, the rubbing plastic swishes and whispers ‘Come on, throw it in, then you’re done, job finished.’

I stop. I hold my dress close. This dress is staying with me. I’m turning my back on this ending and hanging on to my memories. My favourite dress and I take up our dance positions and resume our waltz around the room. I throw my head back and laugh!


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