When Belts Go Bad

Being bullied and assailed by your accessories? I’ve got you

Photo by Kate Hliznitsova on Unsplash

I feel bad about my waist. One minute it was there, and then it was gone, washed away I’m sure by the Chardonnay I insist I can consume without consequences.

But I used to be able to drink and eat whatever I want! I cry to the rolls that have taken up residence around my middle. The rolls don’t respond.

But my belts do.

Bitchy little things. I hear them whispering every day when I get dressed.

Which barely-covers-her-front-butt shirt will she select today? They taunt. Ah, she’s reaching for the leopard print again. As if spots will blind onlookers to that belly. But wait — it’s in the wash! Now what will she do? Will it be the long black tee shirt? The long blue tee shirt? Holy shit. She’s rifling through Rob’s stuff. That must be some bloat!

hate my belts. I hate looking at them, on the shelf, collecting dust, reminding me of the days I could wear them. And I really hate that no matter what I reach for, they have something to say.

Exercise gear? Lord please, not Lycra!

Skinny jeans? Fat chance!

The audacity. Don’t these mouthy fashion-musts appreciate that, thanks to my waist’s obliteration, they’re on vacation? Can’t they just put their belt feet up and read a book?

Clearly, they haven’t a clue that I have the power to completely upend their little leather lives and press them into service as wreathes, magazine holders, floor mats, or — need I say it? — knife sharpeners.

I loved you, my shiny pretties, but I’m done being bullied and assailed by a bunch of accessories. I’m going to grab you by your scrawny little belt necks, deaf to your cries of What is she doing? Where is she taking us? and God, that bulge is even bigger up close! and carry you straight to the cutlery drawer. I’m going to ignore your panicked, bulging belt eyes, your We’re sorry! We take it all back! But we were expensive! bellows and be rid of you once and for all.

I’m going to do it. I can feel it in bones.

Not to mention my belly.

---