All of my clothes are teenagers.

Hello invisible internet friends! Long time no blog at. 

So I'm back on Weight Watchers. I started the first week of December, and my sensible friends wondered why in hell I was starting a diet plan right smack in the middle of the holidays. But that's exactly why I was doing it. I figured on the days when I wasn't at a party washing down frosted Christmas cookies with gallons of eggnog, I'd be eating my sensible scrambled eggs with dry whole wheat toast, and maybe things would balance out.

Instead, I've managed to lose 10 pounds since December 3rd. Yay me for apparently having a terrible social life!

At any rate, I decided to clear out my closet because with ten fewer pounds hanging around my waist, I suspected that my clothes would fit differently. I started with pants, and let me tell you; the Weight Watchers app doesn't include "trying on pants" as a possible exercise, but try on 20 pairs of pants and you will discover that it's an aerobic activity. 

So I now have some pants put aside to donate to my church rummage sale, some set aside because they are still too tight, and a few have moved front and center because lo, they zip. 

All that is to be expected. Less expected was the realization that most of my clothes are old enough to be Bar Mitvahed or maybe to sneak one of my cigarettes (although I don't smoke, so HA, take that, stupid clothes!)

And between this blog and FaceBook memories, I have incredible amounts of evidence of how long I've owned, for example, this black Worth dress

almost 13 years

or this black Tory Burch Simone sweater

even more, because it wasn't new here.

So I guess I'm back on WW not just to slim down a bit, but to lose so much weight that I have to buy a bunch of new clothes. Because at the moment I look like a throwback to the Obama administration. Or, because I don't want to get overly political in these parlous times, like an extra from an episode of Glee.