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I’m still caught up in the thrill of finally going down a pants’ size after years of upward spiralling. I went through the pantal area of my closet reading tags to see what could stay and what could go. I spotted a pair of pants that I used to adore wearing…and they are my “new” size (which used to be my old size, obviously). So I tried them on…and the buttons are missing. So while I could have looked truly fabu this morning, I now have to find not one but two matching buttons that actually fit with the size buttonhole on these pants. And oh, did I mention that I don’t sew? If I had more money, I’d just go out and BUY some damned pants. Sheesh. All this work just so I won’t have to walk around naked.