Day 1201 Poetry

 

It all began when I got it into my head to wear my cute corduroy squirrel dress for Thanksgiving. I’m still not sure why I thought squirrels were Thanksgiving-ish, but the idea stuck. I knew that darn dress had been put away last year—packed neatly into a Rubbermaid bin and jammed into a closet along with the rest of my winter clothes… plus a few bins of summer clothing I swore I’d get to someday.

Well, that day finally came when I went searching for that one silly dress. Out came dresses, sweaters, pants—both summer and winter—piled in a growing mountain on the guest room bed until I finally unearthed it. It was like finding a needle in a haystack, but I knew it was in there somewhere, so I kept digging. I slipped the dress on (amazed it still fit!) and headed off to Thanksgiving dinner… only to come home to a clothing mess the size of Mt. Everest.

Time to weed through and trim down. Ugh.

I love clothes—love wearing fun clothes, love buying fun clothes—but I hate getting rid of anything. What if I need it someday? But go ahead, be impressed, because bag after bag I stuffed with clothes that no longer met whatever mysterious requirement I had in the moment. Some dresses I even spoke to out loud, telling them I loved them and asking why they didn’t love me back—they just never looked quite right. Some things were tossed simply because I didn’t like the feel of the fabric. I’m a bit of a fabric snob and adore my natural fibers: cotton, linen, wool, and of course cashmere. So in went the polyester pieces that weren’t fabulous enough to keep.

I ended up filling twelve bags… and I’d love to report that I’m done, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got at least another day or two of work ahead of me, and I need to get it done while I’m still in the rare mood to purge. That mood does not hit often!

Maybe someday I’ll be one of those neat, clean-closet people. I doubt it, but who knows? I already feel little tinges of worry that a month from now I’ll go searching for something I discarded—but I’m determined not to let that stop me. I consider myself well-dressed, but honestly, with the number of choices I have, I should dress much better on the daily!

I told myself I couldn’t decorate for Christmas until I had a handle on the clothing situation. I needed motivation, and it seems to have worked. Rubbermaid bins are the worst invention ever for a hoarder at heart like me. Seriously, if something goes into a bin, it’s as if I’ve dropped it into a black hole. One bin leads to two, then three, and before I know it, I have no idea what’s in any of them. I just know I never want to open them again. It’s like a plastic clothing time capsule.

In the end, though, clearing out the clutter is a strange mix of frightening and freeing . Maybe this is the start of a slightly more organized version of me... doubt it but let's roll with it for the moment. Who knows...by the time Christmas decorations go up I might just have a handle on my closet....wouldn't that be a perfectly organized Christmas miracle. 

Style isn’t about how much you keep, but how well what you keep loves you back... cheers to style, fun clothing and someday...with a little Christmas magic....a slightly cleaner closet. 

“Clutter is the poetry of our lives.” ~Alexandra Stoddard