Today I went through my closet and got rid of any size 30/32's that I have. I got rid of most of the 26/28's too. I had a threefold test to see if it was time to get rid of it: 1. Is it so big that it looks ridiculous? 2. Is it totally out of style? 3. Would this item be better served with someone else? If I answered yes to any of them, into the Goodwill bag it went. I have 3 large paper bags (from Whole Foods, see I recycle too!) full.
And instead of being thrilled that I'm smaller and able to get rid of my largest clothes, I find that I'm a little melancholy. It's funny how going through your old clothes is like looking at little pieces of your life. That's the outfit I bought because I needed something for an event and it was the first thing that fit that didn't make me want to gouge out my own eyes. It was also my first visit to the real "fat lady" store, because I was getting too big for Lane Bryant. That's the outfit I got at Christmas that I never even tried on because I knew how awful I would look in it (Sorry, Mom). That's the first outfit I got at Avenue, and I was so thrilled to find it had size 30/32. That's the shirt with the retro graphic on it, that made me feel like I wasn't so out-of-step with everyone else ('course, this is back when retro graphics were cool).
I'm terrified to get rid of it all, it's like getting rid of my history. At the same time, it would make my life easier to have clothes in the closet that fit and that I actually like. So my compromise is to keep the outfit I was wearing in my "before" picture. It's a reminder of where I came from...and where I hope to never be again.