The Belt

It was the summer of 1997.  I know this because I went to the gigantic summer craft festival with my then-friend Cindy, and we haven't talked since the end of that summer because I don't think I was cool enough for her anymore (which really, is no big loss as she was a total mommy's girl and in general a really shitty friend).

We passed a booth of extremely high quality leather products. The belts were $60 (yes - I remember the price even though it was 13 years ago because I don't think I'd ever spent that much on one article of clothing ever)... but they were fine. Mighty fine.  That belt was the kind of quality that I could eventually leave this belt to my heirs as there was no way in hell this thing was ever going to break.

I decided to buy it.

1997 was a good year for me in the way of size.  I attribute it to not eating anything really... but I was a size 9 Levi's jeans (from Bootlegger, so you know that was fairly small). I am six feet tall and not exactly willowy, so really - a size 9 shouldn't really be attainable for me.  If I'm healthy anyways.

That belt was great... for about a year, maybe two.  Then... well then I wasn't a size 9 anymore, or really anything even close to it. I couldn't even put on the belt on the largest hole.

But there was no way I was getting rid of the $60 belt. No frigging way.

It came with me on my move to Calgary, and has hung on a hook for at least 10 years now.

Until today.

On Saturday I reached my goal weight, losing 36.1 pounds.

Today I wore the belt.