KERRE MCIVOR

THREE MONTHS IS A LONG TIME BETWEEN DRINKS, BUT KERRE REAPS THE REWARDS

One of the many benefits of giving up drinking for a time is that I manage to do all the jobs and chores I never seem to get around to when a tipple is in the offing.

Who wants to clean out the linen cupboard when a long lunch over a couple of bottles of excellent wine is the alternative? Why would I sort all the papers in my office when I could be having a red wine at my local with the husband on a winter’s afternoon?

But every year, I enjoy a period of abstinence and this year was no different. I woke up on the first morning of May and decided I wouldn’t have another drink for at least three months. And I didn’t.

For three months and 23 days, not a single, solitary drop passed my lips. I lost weight, my skin tone improved, I saved enormous amounts of money and all the niggly jobs that never seem to get crossed off my list were accomplished.

The spice drawer was cleaned out and the spices put into alphabetical order; pictures that had been leaning against walls were finally hung and, best of all, I cleaned out my wardrobes. And yes, there is more than one of them.

My clothes spread across two bedrooms and would encroach into the third if my husband didn’t hold a firm line. In part, it’s because my weight fluctuates so much. When I’m in my non-drinking, marathonrunning, green smoothie phase, I’m a size 10-12. When I lapse back into the long-lunching, “why yes, I will have another” phase, I’m a 12-14. So that means I need a variety of clothes to accommodate my expanding and shrinking body.

And I also require more space than the husband because a lot of my work involves public speaking and MCing black-tie events. You need glamorous gowns as your work wardrobe and they take up a lot of space.

However, the fact that I’d gone down a dress size was the perfect opportunity to go through my clothing and put the clothes that were too big away until next time, and welcome back my smaller clothes. It was also an opportunity to cull the clothes that really didn’t belong.

Occasionally, I’ll buy clothes because I think I can become the person those clothes represent – a pussy-bow silk shirt, for example. I wanted to look professional and stylish, and surely it would be perfect teamed with a leather skirt to give it a bit of edge? Well, no.

With my enormous boobs and lack of neck, I looked like a sack of spuds tied at the top.

Once I’d bought it, I’d kept it because even though it was a mistake, it was expensive and there it had languished, hidden in my wardrobe for three years.

Out it went, along with a dress in an unfortunate shade of beige that did nothing for me, a lovely floral number that was very pretty but just a bit too twee for me and all the other fashion mistakes I’ve made over the years.

They all went to good homes. A colleague has a completely different body shape to mine so she was able to give a new lease on life to most of the clothes. The ones she didn’t went to charity.

It was enormously satisfying looking at my pared down and colour-coded wardrobe. And even more satisfying to be able to zip up the dresses from my small wardrobe.

Now it’s just a matter of seeing whether I can finally master the art of moderation – or whether I’ll be bringing back the bigger clothes six months from now.

‘ With my enormous boobs and lack of neck, I looked like a sack of spuds tied at the top’

As well as reading her column, listen to Kerre on Newstalk ZB, weekdays, noon to 4pm.