Hello, My Name Is Carina and I am a Belt Addict

It all started innocently enough... I noticed a trendy gold belt on a coworker and thought, "Hmm, I could pull that off." Next thing I knew, I didn't own an outfit that couldn't benefit from the gold belt. From jeans to work slacks, it was my notorious accessory. My daily staple. A gold belt was my new black. I was the recipient of many snide comments and my friends came to accept that I now came with baggage, good ol' goldie.

I even dressed up as a super hero with my powers coming from the belt. If that isn't borderline obsession, I'm not sure what is.

Many years and accessories later, I still bust out the beloved metallic wonder from time to time. As fashions have changed, my belts have become smaller and moved upward. I no longer wear them through belt loops. Lately, they have been cinching bulky sweaters, long shirts, and jersey knit dresses. I can count on a certain someone making sarcastic remarks every morning about how glad he is to see my belt having such purpose in keeping my dress in place.

Working at Anthropologie hasn't helped matters. If I was susceptible to a belt addiction before, this place has sent me over the edge. I'm suggesting the idea to customers left and right!

"That dress is cute, but... if you added a kicky belt to the picture, it would really flatter your waistline. (Not that I don't TRULY believe my suggestions. Hey, if I'm going down, I'll try my best to take everyone with me).

I hit rock bottom this morning. Once again I'm sporting a t shirt dress and wool sweater (with knee high "boot socks" that have also unfortunately become too regular in my wardrobe). As I walked to my office, I just couldn't shake the feeling of being uncomfortable. Strange, as there was not one piece of binding clothing on me, let alone confining my waist. Then I realized, it was the LACK of the belt cinch I was missing. I even put a belt on to feel more comfortable, sighed in relief and then promptly took it off in shame as I'm working from home all day and should want to be in slouchy sweats.

If I were to check myself into rehab, I wonder where exactly would that be? Osh Kosh B'Gosh? A place were you are forced to liberate your waist in overalls? Maybe the hospital to wear scrubs. In true Hollywood rehab fashion, I believe it would be a lovely place on the beach. Forced to wear nothing but a two piece bathing suit with no pockets to sneak a belt in when no one is looking.