Resolution fail - 4

It is typical. I have a wardrobe stuffed to the gills but not a stitch of clothing appropriate to any situation be it tea at the Ritz or dinner with girlfriends.

I am Fat. There's no getting around it. But it's not something that bothers me much. Probably because despite my weight I am fairly fit. I walk a lot, swim a lot and run after my kid a lot. I pretend to gym a lot. Wait, no, I pay for the gym but don't go a lot. Coming back to the weight, the only problem it causes is the variety of clothes available. And the occasional offer of a tube seat because I look a bit pregnant. (who am I kidding, that ain't a problem).

Im off the beaten track. So anyway, as part of my resolution of owning less and pruning what I own I had a first go at my cupboard over the Christmas break. It was pretty easy. I was fairly ruthless and gave away 4 bags of clothes to charity shops for other fat people to enjoy. I gave away things that didn't really fit, colours I thought did not suit me and styles that were just stretched sacks. 4 big bags. Aren't you proud of me?

But in the new year when I looked back into my cupboard the clothes seem to have magically grown and ever single thing was either brown or black or denim blue. In other words Blah!

And then I discovered I had thrown away so many pairs of trousers that I had precisely um three pairs to wear on a daily basis. To do all that running behind child and take the spills of juice and yogurt, the smears of snot and mud like troopers. My washing machine would be working overtime.

So last weekend I replaced the trousers on a whirlwind hour shop with three new pairs (less than I threw away but joining forces with the ones I kept, adequate)

I still have piles of shirts and tops and dresses and jumpers I can't bear to part with. Which I haven't worn in years or which are threadbare and unit for use as anything but rags but which sentimentality refuses to let me touch.

My cupboard is still stuffed to the gills. Clothes and air playing tricks or merely relaxing into the space. I need a wardrobe overhaul I cannot afford and/ or a new body I am too lazy to pursue. I am also going to India in a week and will no doubt buy all manner of clothes that will never be used in London.

I'm failing this resolution on so many counts that it's staggering. Thank goodness There are nine months of the year left for me to sort it out.

Resolution fail - 3

Since returning from holiday last week I've made something of a decision that contradicts my earlier resolution. Or rather adjusts it.

I have always been an all or nothing kinda girl. In friendship. In love. In food. This has meant many many enduring friendships, the greatest love of my life and an uncanny ability to eat my own weight in marshmallows. I never said it was healthy. More to the point though this trait of all or nothing always aided my resolution making because I could decide on something and then follow through with vigour.)

I think age has mellowed this trait because I came back from holiday thinking I would try again to be pescatrian but with one caveat. And that is to not beat myself up so much when I didn't manage it. In the next week, since getting back I have only veered once. And because I told myself that it would be ok (yes all you iron willed people must think I am a wimp) I enjoyed that meal very much.

So this year I am all about eating healthier, adding fish and yet more veggies to my diet with more regularity. But equally I am going to eat the odd meal including meat without kicking myself or knocking my will power or tripping up my confidence.

I'm not going to cook it for myself and V unless we have guests. I am however going to eat it when I want to and after considering all the possible choices on offer. And I am sincerely still making an effort to be less carnivorous.

Fairer to self. That's what my year should be about