Tonight, I went closet-diving. “Closet-diving” is when you
go through your clothes to check the fit of older items you put away for “when
I lose a few pounds.” A female acquaintance described it as something women do,
but I wouldn’t be surprised if other men besides me kept some skinnier clothes
from bygone days.
It started this morning when I put on my white guayabera
shirt, one piece of a huge selection of clothes that a former coworker had
given me after her husband lost a lot of weight and, ignorant of this fact, I had
complained to her about the bareness of my wardrobe. (It was an incredibly
generous gift; the total donation was easily worth $1,000 even in 2007.) A 3XL,
I noticed with some amusement that the guayabera is now beginning to fit like a
muumuu. Nevertheless, I wore it all day because guayaberas and tropical prints
are good shirts to wear on a north-central Texas summer day, especially on “casual
Friday.”
About an hour ago, after my brother had come home from
dinner with his not-quite-ex-wife (I’ll leave you to wonder about that because
I wonder, too), I mentioned the capacious Cuban shirt to him. “I’ll have to
check out Goodwill,” I told him, “because this is the best of my tropical
shirts. The rest are looking pretty ratty.”
“Hold on a moment,” Ted replied. He dived into his walk-in
closet and found an ivory guayabera and a light-blue tropical print that hadn’t
been taken out of the cleaner bags for some time. The tropical print was 2XL;
it fits loose but good and is attractive as well.
The guayabera is a large. Not extra-large … merely large.
And it fits. Not even a slight bit of strain at the button over my belly. That’s
what prompted the closet-dive.