thoughts while packing for Sirens
SELF: Oh, noes! I cannot wear the costume I wanted to bring for the Sirens ball, because I have gained too much weight!
REST OF SELF: Well, we’re not eighteen anymore.
SELF: No, we’re not. <is tragic>
REST OF SELF: . . . hang on a sec. We have gained something in the waist and hips, yes. But this outfit is cut such that it actually still fits just fine through the waist and hips.
SELF: BUT IT DOESN’T FIT.
REST OF SELF: . . . through the ribcage. I somehow don’t think we’ve gained large amounts of weight in the ribcage. I think we’ve just grown. Seeing as how this was sewn for us when we were eighteen, and we are now thirty-two.
SELF: Wait, that’s almost worse. We can pretend we might lose weight someday, but we can’t really pretend our bones are going to shrink back to teenaged levels.
REST OF SELF: I’m going to ignore that weight-loss comment and point out that this is why someone invented corsets.
SELF: HOORAY THE DAY IS SAVED!
(I actually have to wait for kniedzw to get home and help me get dressed to see if this solution will work. If it doesn’t, then I should probably let go of the dress, since yeah — it not fitting is a function more of my skeleton than anything else. But I think it will; the dress only just barely doesn’t fit.)