2001-06-13 || 10:23 a.m.

|| this comples is brought to you by st vincent de paul ||

my closet and dresser are full of clothes that don't fit quite right. there are piles: clothes that don't fit right now, that used to fit; clothes that have never fit but are too cute to give up; clothes i mean to give to my sister because they'll fit her (although seeing her fitting into a shirt i am in love with hurts. no fair contributing to sister's cuteness, i gotta look out for number one over here.); and clothes i am not sure why i bought in the first place. this is the tragedy of thrift store shopping. no trying on. just eyeballing and holding up pieces to hips and chest. but the hips are usually a little too big. the buttons are straining from the boobs. princess leia wore duct tape under her dress. maybe i should do that under cowboy shirts.

but there is something psychologically damaging about all this. wearing clothes that never quite fit right. it's giving me a complex. one day wow i look pretty hott in this dress, even though my slip is showing a little. next day oh my heavens i am goddamn violet beauregard, expanding expanding popping buttons defying zippers maybe a coupla safety pins will do the trick i'll wear a sweater over it what ever gave me the idea that i could look good in this? i have so. many. clothes. i want the closet fairy to come and wave her magic measuring tape and transform all the clothes so that they fit perfectly. that denim skirt and that nurse's uniform (begrudgingly given to julie because it hurt to see it on the hanger) and my favorite brown pants that are now um bustin at the seams a little and oh. man. i hate it.

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