Published: April 21, 2008 10:28 pm            

Cathie Shaffer: Maybe the lost shouldn't be found: 4/22/08

My summer clothes are missing. Actually, I suppose, the correct term is “lost.” As in, I put them somewhere last fall and they haven’t been seen since.

I vaguely remember folding the clothes and putting them in some sort of container and putting them somewhere. As I was wearing sweats at the time, summer seemed a long time away.

Truth is, they’re probably in a big plastic storage box in the spare closet.

Or the garage. Or the basement. Or the storage unit I rent a few miles outside of town.

I will admit, I haven’t looked all that hard. The thought has occurred to me on bright, sunny days that sooner or later, I’m going to have to give up the sweaters and start wearing tank tops. Then it gets cold, gloomy and rainy again, and shorts become my last priority.

Since it’s been months since I’ve seen these missing summer clothes, it is becoming increasingly easy for me to tell myself they are lost forever ... that I’ll probably have to buy a whole new summer wardrobe.

Of course, that will never happen. In the course of looking for something else, I’ll come across a box that, when opened, will contain my warm-weather clothing. But until then, I can dream.

I can imagine myself in a wild departure from my normal basic attire of basic black with muted neutrals. In my daydreams, I see myself striding down the street in darling lime green capris and matching top, carrying a straw purse decorated with pink flamingos, strappy platform sandals on my feet.

It doesn’t matter that my body shape and bright colors are natural enemies, I haven’t owned a straw purse since high school and if I try to walk on any shoe with a heel higher than a sneaker, I’ll stagger like a drunken sailor.

The sensible part of me insists I start a serious search for the summer clothing; the impulsive part of me hopes they’re gone forever.

The imp on my shoulder whispers that credit cards were made to be used, so why not?

The voice of reason reminds me there’s nothing more depressing than standing in a dressing room in front of three-way mirror that accents all one’s flaws.

Since I am an eminently practical person, I know the search will go on until the clothes appear. I’ll sort them in three piles: Definitely wear, only at home and what was I thinking?

The latter category is comprised mostly of things I bought on sale, because I’m a sucker for a good buy. It isn’t until I get home that I realize I’ll never go out in public in hot pink short-shorts or a skirted swimsuit with flowers the size of dinner plates.

And that brings another bout of imaginary fun as summer heads out way — mentally spending the proceeds of the yard sale I know I’ll never have.

CATHIE SHAFFER can be reached at (606) 473-9851.

        

• Click to discuss this story with other readers on our forums.