Letting go of clothes that don't fit: The Tale of 3 Hot Pink Dresses

1.

The first hot pink dress was soft. She had little pleats that collected at my waist and wrapped down like rose petals. 

My friends called her the “break up dress.” My mom and I found her at a chain store a month after a big heartbreak. I debuted her at a gala, and in the photos I am smiling for the first time in a while.

I wore her to every subsequent wedding for several years. She was both cozy and sexy, my ultimate style.

Then my body got bigger. She was surprisingly roomy for how much she hugged my curves.  Even so, she stopped feeling right.

She hung in my closet until I moved to New York. I gave her away in a pile of California clothes, and tried not to dwell on the ache in my chest.

2.

I found the second hot pink dress at a thrift store in Brooklyn. She was different. Satiny. A delicate flower pattern. She also had folds but they didn’t look like petals, they looked like Structure.

She was my new weddings and special events dress.

Once while rewatching Parks & Rec, I discovered that Amy Poehler wore the same dress. Not a similar dress. The exact same dress.

The lighting makes it look like they are different colors, but they're the same!

Last year I wore her to my brother’s wedding, a very happy day. By that point the zipper barely made it up. I brought a second outfit to change into later, but for a few hours, it was worth the squeeze. She and I looked incredible in the photos, her little flowers glinting in the sun.

A few months later I turned 40 and tried on everything in my closet. Her zipper no longer closed. This time I dwelled. I did not try to make myself feel better. I let the ache in my chest burst as I cried. (If I’m being honest, I just started crying again while typing this.)

When I finished crying I folded her up and put her in my give away bag. The bag sat in my room for several months. I almost hung her back up many times. Eventually I took her out again and lit a candle. I thanked her for everything and cried some more. I thanked the first hot pink dress while I was at it. Then I put her back in the bag, brought the bag to Goodwill, and sent a blessing for someone else’s joy.

3.

The third hot pink dress is somewhere out there, waiting for me. If you see her, tell her I know how to show a dress a good time. Tell her I know how to cut a rug, to let an outfit swish and swirl in time with the music. Tell her that when they pull out the camera, I’ll be sure to stand up straight, arms outstretched, with a smile on my face. 

me, starting longingly at the hot pink dress of the future

Letting go of clothes that don't fit can suck. It can also be beautiful. These clothes are a portal to grief. They contain vital information about who we are and who we want to be.

That's why I'm holding a Threads Memorial. If you've got clothes you're not quite ready to let go of, I hope you'll join.

p.s. more images of the dresses on instagram