Nestled in my bedroom drawers behind the sweatpants and the ‘roomy’ jeans lie a pair of black jodhpurs. Every time we move house or country the Jod’s come. The Jod’s are family.When I open the drawer and run my hands lovingly over the black fabric, I am letting myself live the dream a little longer.
You see the Jod’s have one magical letter. The ‘S’ on the tag. That ‘S’ represents hope. Hope that one day my small self with fit those suckers. If you looked at me you’d say “Those Jod’s were quite a few cream donuts ago, just quietly.” Why, yes, yes they were. The Jod’s were a time when I could run without causing damage to the pavement. The Jod’s were pre-kids when I could party on tequila and feast on cheese-puffs (something I still do because they’re cheese puffs and I am their slave). The Jod’s were a time before I worked out (kind of) at home, instead of hitting the gym and being mistaken for the janitorial staff. (Apparently you don’t wear your Buffalo Bills T-shirt (with pride) and a pair of quietly unattractive bike shorts, but instead wear matching lycra in cute prints.)

The Jod’s represent hope. Hope that one day, barring disease they will slip on with ease. Hope that one day I will finish the Paleo/Atkins/South Bay/Tomato Soup/Orange Juice/Fig and Bacon/Boysenberry ice-cream and cheese puffs diet (okay, I made the last one up). Until then I’m hanging onto the Jod’s, because they give me hope, and if you can’t hope then my world got a bit smaller (but not my butt) and sadder.




What about you? Is there a piece of clothing you hold onto?