my shrinking clothes

My shrinking clothes

By David Verveer

Finally I gave in to the continues remarks by my wife, that I have outgrown most of my wardrobe, and the time has come that I throw (give) away, dispose of, or any of those nasty expressions, which mean to part of my soul, of those which have served me so well over the last 40 years. The remarks by my spouse that I am a "Smattekeeper" which means collector of old clothes, is of course exaggerated, so is also the false accusation that I still have my pajama's from my Bar Mitzvah is of course a imagination of a jealous women, incapable of enjoying possessions, not that it is true, as I never in my live, wore pajama's, which I think is old fashioned, and uncomfortable. Of course I will not discuss here my bed habits; we won't make this a blue story.

Funny anough, I noticed that most trousers seem to have shrunk around my belly section, probably bad tailors, but what do you want, most of these trousers and jackets served me well n my hungry and slim days, and did not adopt themselves for better times and especially better food. Not that I got fat, but the expression of pleasantly plumb might be more suiting.

But tell me, why in heavens name, I had to try on every pair of trousers and decide on its fate to go or stay waiting in my dressing wardrobe, for the day when I finally will start with dieting and sport, and my body-weight will be reduced to my former belt size, something I am planning already for months, but due to chronic complains of laziness, which effects me every time I get near the excise bike. My dear wife tells me that the sport of "FreeCell" (a card-game on the computer) won't help me to reduce, she simply has negative thoughts.

There is an expression saying "clothes make the man", throwing clothes away is thus "unmanly". Look in which a mess I got, having now, at my age to proof my manliness.

My wife, is on a continuous diet recycling course, every time she has lost weight needs to change her wardrobe and throw her last one away, complaining that she has nothing to wear, a few months later, the new clothes won't fit her because she has gained weight again, and again the wardrobe has to go.

I remember when we got married, she had such pretty clothes, where have they gone, and don't give me those stupid arguments as fashion changes, we don't live in the Riviera, we don't have to show off.
Than you get those famous arguments, my friend (my neighbor, my co-workers), wear everyday a new suit, dress, shoes, hairdo, and so on, their husbands appreciate their wives, they care how they look. You wouldn’t mind if I go in rags to work, arguments which repeat themselves on a daily base, but seem to be a part of the marriage relations, not that I ever interfered with my wife's renewing her collection, knowing that this is extremely dangerous terrain.

Didn't Shakespeare, our Jewish lard, say the following: " Thou villain base, Know'st me not by my clothes? No, nor thy tailor, rascal, who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes, which, as it seems, make thee." I have no idea what he intended to say, but it looks very educated to finish with a quotation of Shakespeare.