Once I finish another bazillion loads of laundry I'll finally be able to do what I've need to do for the past 6 months: the closet purge. I've been telling myself that I'm out of hangers and can go this long without totally having laundry done because I'm in between seasons (it's been a record cold spring in Baltimore) or because most of my wardrobe is work and play appropriate; cardigans are the best invention for business casual since the trouser jean.
But as I look around at my perpetually cluttered life, I can't help but wonder if I just keep clutter, or in this case clothes, around because I'm scared of the possibility of losing the possibility. The possibility that if I just could find the perfect outfit it would somehow be the game changer in a situation. I obsess before an event or outing that I want to blend in while standing out, that I won't be too formal or too casual but at the same time won't look like everyone else. That somehow having 10 options to choose from means that the one perfect option will have to be in the mix. And that getting rid of these possibilities would mean getting rid of that one option, that one day could have made the difference somehow.
This is why I usually have to enlist consultants (Sarah or little bacon, in most cases), when the purge arrives. I need someone else to convince me that the dress really does make you look fat, or holding on to the 4th grade soccer trophy won't change the fact that you really sucked at soccer and they give every kid a trophy.
I haven't decided on a number yet for this year's purge. But I know that it's just plain selfish at this point to keep buying hangers instead of investing in the life I live in the clothes. Anyone sizes 8-12 is welcome to take dibs on the results.
1 comment:
Godspeed.
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