A few weeks ago, I thought about pulling my (nearly 36 year old) wedding dress out of storage and trying it on. That thought has stuck in my mind ever since, so this week, I did it. Those of you that live in Arkansas know that it’s been raining for around 47 years straight, and I have a knack for getting weird ideas when I haven’t gotten some legit vitamin D for a while.

I think it’s a foregone conclusion that it fit or I wouldn’t be writing about it, so no spoilers, there. 😉

I tried it on once before, probably 12-13 years ago, when I was at my then-lowest weight, and couldn’t get it zipped up — but I weigh less, now. I don’t remember how much I weighed when I got married; I was far too busy and poor to worry much about dieting before my wedding. I was a college student, then. I was on a school meal plan with limited options, but I know that when I walked down the aisle, I was not at my lowest adult weight.

It strikes me as surreal that I’m on the verge of being the thinnest I’ve been since getting married in 1983. This body has been through so much since then, and I am hardly a 21 year old woman anymore.

Regimes have fallen, volcanoes have erupted, Milli Vanilli exposed the public to the hazards of lip syncing. You have to be 35 years old to hold the office of U.S. President, so my dress is eligible. My daughter was born, I ate a lot of pizza (a lot of pizza!), I have gained and lost the rough equivalent of the Titanic — and lost it — a few times over. Miss Piggy and Kermit broke up.

In other words — life happened.

I’m not really sure why I kept my wedding dress; it wasn’t well preserved, and it probably sounds funny saying that I’m not all that attached to it after storing it for a few decades, but I’m glad I did. There’s a grounding that comes with trying on clothes, even if you know there’s not a chance you’ll wear them, again; hello, hoop skirt and puffy sleeves, 1983 is calling!

While I’ve been pleased with the gradual decrease in clothing size over recent years, nothing quite drives it home like putting on something I haven’t been able to wear since the Cold War.

I do have a couple other pieces of smaller clothing that date back even farther, including a Gunne Sax dress (for those times when you just feel all Little House on the Prairie) and an embroidered jacket (be real, people, I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, peace out!). I would be quite surprised to lose enough weight to fit into either of those, but who knows? Obviously, I never thought I’d fit into the wedding dress again, either.

Blame it on the rain.