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 Holly Winter Living The Life Of Holly June 4, 2003 “It’s too big.” She insisted. “Not if I push out my stomach. See.” “No. Holly. It’ll fall off. You can’t take a bathing suit that’s too big on vacation with your boyfriend to the Cayman Islands. That’s ridiculous.” “I hate losing weight.” I wailed. “What do you mean? You look great!” “Yeah. My body looks great, but my clothes are looking a bit potato-sack-ish these days. There should be a rule that your clothes have to shrink with your body.” Man. It’s so sad to lose a whole entire wardrobe. I mean. Does anybody care? This is tragic. Hello? My closet is bare. Oh. Sure. I can still wear my old, raggedy sweat pants. Why is that? Some of my older favorites have ballooned to huge, maternity sizes. No kidding. I think that they must have been closet eating as a way to deal with the grief of losing the big me. And. So. Now. They are even bigger than they once were. (Yes. I am embarrassed for them.) “Well. So. You get to buy a new, tiny bathing suit…” “No money.” I was getting tired of waiting for my short term disability money to kick in. Um. It was six months late already. “You have to BUY. You will NOT take that blue bathing suit.” “Can’t buy anything new.” Hello. No money doesn’t mean that my trust fund payment is delayed. (For some reason my relation to royalty hasn’t been established anywhere on earth. I know. It stumps even me.) No money means that I am starting to notice the signs that the homeless carry and wondering how much they collect in their cups. Do they have enough to buy groceries? She surveyed the clothes that I had laid out. “Girl. You need color. You’re going to the tropics, not a funeral.” “Have you noticed that you disagree with every packing choice I’ve made so far?” “Yeah.” She said, absent mindedly. Her mind was wandering. Ok. I was standing right there. I saw her hone in on those pants like a missile screeching towards a target. No. I didn’t mind. Even if that one article of clothing might have been her whole reason for coming over and not some altruistic packing reflex. She was my friend and we were forever bonded in our need for fashion. “Oh. I love these. Why don’t you wear them anymore?” Yeah. I know. “Darlin-man loved that back zipper.” I sighed. “What size are they?” She asked, trying to hide her excitement as she slid into them. “Oh. They’re perfect.” She caught her reflection in the mirror. “I know.” “They’re so different.” “I know. Madison Avenue. New York City.” “Ok. I NEED to borrow them.” “Keep them.” I said, sadly. “No. I couldn’t.” She tensed. I know. But. I had no fight left in me. “Eliza. I’m trying to lose the baggy look. Take them. Enjoy.” “Oh. Girl. Ron is going to love these. I’m going to wear them on Friday night… our date night.” “Those pants are a sure thing.” I laughed. “And. You will need this shirt to go with them.” I handed her a clingy, silky, printed, very NYC shirt. “Oh. Man.” She tried it on. “This is going to be a fun date night…” “Just make sure that Ron is with you. Those pants are potent.” “Believe me. We may not even leave the house.” We laughed. She removed the entire contents of my closet and placed them onto my bed.” “There. Take these things…” “Um. Yeah. No. Let me show you my suitcase.” I suggested. “It might be a better starting point.” “Why?” “It’s small.” I threw my flight attendant suitcase on the bed. “That’s your carry on…right?” I added my make up kit and my toiletries kit. I threw in two pairs of sandals. There was less than half of the space left. “YOU HAVE NO SPACE.” Eliza yelled. “Nobody can travel like that. It’s illegal. They’ll think you are smuggling drugs into the country.” “I need only skimpy clothes.” I assured her. “Skimpy?” She asked. “You need to go naked.” I put my two shortest skirts onto into the suitcase. “See. They don’t take up any room. I started adding small tops. “Wait. Color doesn’t take up any extra room.” She insisted, changing my selection. “Yeah. But. Wearing black will help me look like a tourist.” I put my favorite black top back in. We added a few bathing suits that kinda fit, and a few other choice pieces. She had to sit on the top to close it. “Do you think that he could carry some stuff for you?” “No. I am sure that his suitcase will be small too. He travels enough to know how to travel light.” “Holly. You only have two pairs of shoes.” “I promise never to wear them both at the same time.” “You need more stuff.” She said, exasperated. “Hey. One of the things Darlin-man likes about me is that I have little baggage: literally, figuratively, and bodily.” ------------ About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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