Ten Items in My Closet That I Never Should Have Bought

I clean out my closet fairly regularly, so most of my hideous mistakes have been tossed long ago, like that pair of mens jeans I bought for $5.99, convincing myself that I could make the look work. (FAIL.) Turns out, they actually design mens jeans for men. With lines and cuts that fit all (ahem) that a man has to offer, of which I have none. Who knew???

The clothes that I'm featuring today are the ones that are not hideous, per se, but hideous on me and examples of my occasional poor judgment. And I keep them around because I believe in Big Dreams, even dreams that I will wake up weighing 101 pounds, standing five foot, nine inches tall, looking shockingly like Heidi Klum. Sometimes when I'm shopping, I hear a mysterious voice whisper, "If you buy them, they will fit."

So I buy them. And then they hang in my closet and stare at me, day after day, enticing me and then making fun of me behind my back. These clothes are textbook passive aggressive. I think this one is the ringleader. Just look at those shifty eyes.

This is Houndstooth Semi-Jacket. How fabulous is this crisp-weather top?

Yeah, well. On me, it seems to make my already large arms quite a bit larger. It makes me look as bulky as a case of toilet paper at Costco. I want to love this top. So I keep it in my closet and watch it mock me and my linebacker arms. It's very unhealthy.

Next up, I give you Crappy Plasticky Shoes from GAP Outlet. These blister-makers laugh and laugh and laugh at me every time I look at them. The Green Crappy Plasticky Shoes have been worn approximately 1.25 times and those experiences can be summed up in three words: sweaty, painful, toe-cleavage.

The Navy Blue Crappy Plasticky Shoes have been worn 0.0 times. They think they're so funny.

Next, I give you the Sundress collection. Poppy Sundress is all beauty, no brains. She looks like she'll work, but she makes me look like a sad, sad lump of cookie dough laced with salmonella. I keep her around, because she looks soooo good on the hanger. And I seem to believe that counts for something. I have a new theory: If something looks fabulous on a hanger, it will only look as fabulous on someone who weighs as much as a hanger. Confession: I bought this without trying it on.

This sundress is an older mistake called Target Easter Wrap Dress. It's too short, it wraps in the wrong places and it makes me look like I'm trying to pretend I'm in high school. I keep it around just in case I ever get a time machine and can go back to high school, because (evil chuckle) I have a lot of things I'd like to do differently in high school. And I want to look really cute while I'm doing them.

Pink Eighties Jacket and I started out alright...until I saw us together in a photo. Holy Doesn't Fit Me, Batman! Still, it stares at me longingly.

Strange Sleeve Sweater was an attempt to cover my linebacker arms. It's hard to tell in the photo, but there is a LOT of material there in those sleeves. I approached the sweater on the rack and said very Napoleon Dynamite style, "I like your sleeves." As it turns out, all that extra material just makes me look like I have extra large arms, instead of large arms. And that little ruffle around the middle? It produces that "Is she pregnant?" sentiment in passers by. Confession: I bought this without trying it on.

Old Navy Wedges and I go back a couple of years. I want to love them, but I'm not in love with them. I'm in love with the idea of them. Finally, I had to sit down with them and say, "It's not you, it's me." They wept for six hours and begged to be spared from Goodwill, even though I told them there was a pair of feet out there for them. Such clingy little shoes.

Question: Do you ever buy an article of clothing because it subconsciously reminds you of someone you like? I guess I do. I bought this shirt, and while I like it, I felt like I was trying to channel someone else in wearing it. Then it hit me--this is Should Have Been Kami's Shirt. (Seriously, Kami, do you have this shirt or one like it?) I bought it with subconscious hopes that I would suddenly be a nicer person, a great photographer, and capable of any do-it-yourself project in the world.

The tale of me and Betty Draper Wishes She Had This Jacket is a tragic one. I bought it a few years ago and if I could lose 9 or 10 pounds, we could totally get back together. "I eat because I'm unhappy that I can't fit into my favorite jacket, and I can't fit into my favorite jacket because I eat." TRAGEDY!

Finally, I give you Elf Dress Purchased for Mormon Singles Christmas Party. I hate to call this a mistake, exactly, but the facts of the story are this: I was visiting Alyssa in New York a couple of years ago during the holidays and she asked me to tag along to a fancy-schmancy Christmas party at the top of a fancy-schmancy apartment building. We decided that the skirt and jacket I'd brought with me was not going to do, so I picked up this jolly little number and wore it to the party with a gold belt. I haven't been invited to any Mormon Singles Christmas Parties since then. Perhaps it is because I'm married, but I think it may be because of this dress.

So, there you have it. These are the clothes that haunt me, taunt me, and remind me that I'll never be Heidi Klum, not even Heidi Kluminsky of Minot, North Dakota.

Someday, when I have enough courage and therapy, I will send these clothes off to bless the closets of others. And then I will replace them with new mistakes.