One of the points in Angie’s blog today is the need to buy for our actual lives, rather than for imaginary lifestyles. That absolutely makes sense. Sometimes though, it can be difficult to know what’s real and what’s not:

• When I gained weight, I absolutely wanted to lose it again, and felt that getting rid of smaller clothing would be declaring that I didn’t have faith in myself that I’d do it. I even occasionally bought new “goal” pieces to incentivize the body reshaping. I still have a little bit to go, and am still using the same techniques, but now need to decide where the cutoff is for large sized pieces to keep. I feel good that the weight loss was real and that I was right to hold clothes for it.

• a year before our move to Germany, I began planning for it. For example, I put together a warm weather fall capsule in colors that work for me instead of the usual orange, brown, or sage. When I packed it away at the end of the season, I included some long pants and sweaters that I couldn’t wear with it in Florida. I think I made the right choice about my real life, even though it was a way off.

• I expected I’d have assistance looking for work in Germany. That hasn’t panned out, and I’ve been stymied by the pandemic. I have the same feeling that I did about the weight loss, that giving up the wardrobe for a return to my career would be giving up on my chances to ever get back there. Sometimes though, I wonder if I’m just fooling myself.

• a sillier, smaller version is the lingerie in my storage locker. I’m happy to have my simple mesh body stocking back, and will certainly wear the bras and chemises. I might use the garter belts. But there are some pieces that I can’t decide about. It’s been a long time since I wore them, but I hate the idea of putting away my sexuality forever. I hate the idea of clinging to things hoping for a man, but honestly can’t see wearing something like a burnout velvet gown hanging out at home with my son or by myself. Then again, he’s probably only going to live with me for one more year.

When have you needed to decide what was your real life and what was just imaginary? How did you make the choice, what did you decide, and how did it turn out in the end?