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Description
Daisy reached into her overcrowded closet and dug her arms between a thick block of clothes stuffed together on the railing. She drew apart a section on the rail which revealed a black blouse with a lacey neck and frilled arms to the left and a beige faux leather skirt with a silver side zip to the right. When on earth did these get here? Have I ever actually worn these?

She released her arms from the weight of the clothes and the rail snapped shut once again. I wonder what else is in here?

She clawed apart another section to the left and found two more skirts, one long, light and wavy and made for summer with an orient floral design and the other a shorter polyester fabric with a black and white pinstripe print. This looks a lot more familiar . Daisy pulled it from the rail for closer inspection. It had been years since she last wore it, she couldn't place specifically when or where but she did remember how happy she felt buying it. She checked the inside label: size ten. It's been a while since I last wore size ten. She pinned the skirt against the front of her body to get an indication of how it might fit but even at full stretch it couldn't cover the width of her hips That explains why its been buried in there.

She threw the skirt on her bed and continued rummaging in the closet this time pulling batches of five and six items at once to speed the search up. There were many tees, jeans, tops, bottoms and skirts that had been housed away for some time. The sizes fluctuated wildly with some garments dropping as low as size six. God knows how I ever got into these jeans? Why haven't I thrown these out? Perhaps Daisy had always thought she could, if she so wished, slim back down to a smaller size. But as the clothes piled up on the bed she acknowledged that it was time to declutter. Sixes and eights have to go. Even if I wanted I'm never getting back into them. But maybe some tens if I put my mind to it.

The closet was near emptied at which point the unmistakable shade of deep royal blue could finally be seen. She crouched down and picked the uniform from the closet floor where it lay in a indignant heap. It was coated with a thin layer of dust which she batted away firmly with an open hand. The inside label read eight. Oh crap, this ain't gonna work. But she knew she had to try.

She removed her tee and peeled off her jeans and first started tugging the uniform top over her shoulders and awkwardly poking her head and arms through the holes. It was a difficult task and she struggled to pull the material up and over her breasts which had filled out substantially since her time as a cheerleader.

The skirt presented greater problems and couldn't wrap around the circumference of her hips and buttocks, much like her breasts both had expanded notably since her last fitting. She was almost two inches short of cloth and could only make ends meet by lifting the garment up to the smaller circumference of her waist at which point the skirt no longer acted as a skirt and exposed her underwear. That won't work!

She unwrapped the skirt from her body and found a solution on the inside of the garment. There was excess cloth lining the inside which could be used to extend the waist line. Not only do I have to wear my old uniform but I need re-fashion it too? This is effort. Too much effort. But what's the alternative? Tell Suzy I'm too fat for my costume? Or pretend I'm sick and not go?

None of which seemed pleasing so Daisy set about sewing a generous addition of cloth to the skirt to create as close as she could get to a relaxed size fourteen.

Once sewn she re-wrapped herself in the skirt. Ends could meet around her hips and buttocks and the garment was both buttonable and zippable against a held stomach and passed the stress test against a relaxed stomach. She was happy with her work and satisfied with the outcome. She was as ready as she could be and felt an unexpected hint of optimism for the festival. Who knows, maybe this could work?

Description
Daisy reached into her overcrowded closet and dug her arms between a thick block of clothes stuffed together on the railing. She drew apart a section on the rail which revealed a black blouse with a lacey neck and frilled arms to the left and a beige faux leather skirt with a silver side zip to the right. When on earth did these get here? Have I ever actually worn these?

She released her arms from the weight of the clothes and the rail snapped shut once again. I wonder what else is in here?

She clawed apart another section to the left and found two more skirts, one long, light and wavy and made for summer with an orient floral design and the other a shorter polyester fabric with a black and white pinstripe print. This looks a lot more familiar . Daisy pulled it from the rail for closer inspection. It had been years since she last wore it, she couldn't place specifically when or where but she did remember how happy she felt buying it. She checked the inside label: size ten. It's been a while since I last wore size ten. She pinned the skirt against the front of her body to get an indication of how it might fit but even at full stretch it couldn't cover the width of her hips That explains why its been buried in there.

She threw the skirt on her bed and continued rummaging in the closet this time pulling batches of five and six items at once to speed the search up. There were many tees, jeans, tops, bottoms and skirts that had been housed away for some time. The sizes fluctuated wildly with some garments dropping as low as size six. God knows how I ever got into these jeans? Why haven't I thrown these out? Perhaps Daisy had always thought she could, if she so wished, slim back down to a smaller size. But as the clothes piled up on the bed she acknowledged that it was time to declutter. Sixes and eights have to go. Even if I wanted I'm never getting back into them. But maybe some tens if I put my mind to it.

The closet was near emptied at which point the unmistakable shade of deep royal blue could finally be seen. She crouched down and picked the uniform from the closet floor where it lay in a indignant heap. It was coated with a thin layer of dust which she batted away firmly with an open hand. The inside label read eight. Oh crap, this ain't gonna work. But she knew she had to try.

She removed her tee and peeled off her jeans and first started tugging the uniform top over her shoulders and awkwardly poking her head and arms through the holes. It was a difficult task and she struggled to pull the material up and over her breasts which had filled out substantially since her time as a cheerleader.

The skirt presented greater problems and couldn't wrap around the circumference of her hips and buttocks, much like her breasts both had expanded notably since her last fitting. She was almost two inches short of cloth and could only make ends meet by lifting the garment up to the smaller circumference of her waist at which point the skirt no longer acted as a skirt and exposed her underwear. That won't work!

She unwrapped the skirt from her body and found a solution on the inside of the garment. There was excess cloth lining the inside which could be used to extend the waist line. Not only do I have to wear my old uniform but I need re-fashion it too? This is effort. Too much effort. But what's the alternative? Tell Suzy I'm too fat for my costume? Or pretend I'm sick and not go?

None of which seemed pleasing so Daisy set about sewing a generous addition of cloth to the skirt to create as close as she could get to a relaxed size fourteen.

Once sewn she re-wrapped herself in the skirt. Ends could meet around her hips and buttocks and the garment was both buttonable and zippable against a held stomach and passed the stress test against a relaxed stomach. She was happy with her work and satisfied with the outcome. She was as ready as she could be and felt an unexpected hint of optimism for the festival. Who knows, maybe this could work?