Into my closet that is... and this past weekend, that is precisely what I had on the agenda. Unfortunately, as with most of my best laid plans, other things kept coming up, but I was still able to purge a few items and somewhat sort the rest. I must say, it was harder than I thought to part with some of my old duds...
No wonder the folks on What Not to Wear get so upset/ homicidal/ emotional about someone casting off their beloved "don't's"...
My closet was comprised of the following:
- 20% = clothes I wear 80% of the time (basics like jeans, cotton, t's, etc.)
- 65% = ill-fitting career-wear (while my last job wasn't that buttoned up, the previous two required suits and lots of tailored shirts)
- 10% = special occasion dresses... most of which don't fit (bleck)
- 5% = embarrassingly slutty clubbing clothes*
On the chance I do go back to work someday, everything I own will be way out of style by then and probably even more ill-fitting. Despite this, I still could not part with my old work clothes and interview suits... Even if I miraculously lost about 40 lbs in my sleep, let's face it, my toddler and his little buddies aren't exactly a dry clean only sort of crowd.
Although someone else could probably use any one of these FIFTEEN black dress pants that are several sizes too small for me, I still couldn't let go... You know, maybe I can get back to the gym and get really skinny and wear them again.
I'll just put them in the back of the closet...
Please don't tell my husband. You see, my biggest accomplishment was making him get rid of most of HIS stuff, like his old clubbing clothes, ill-fitting pants, and this lovely number from his college days in the early nineties...
Yeah.... I think it pretty much speaks for itself.
A few weeks ago, my parents dropped by while our neighborhood was holding its spring garage sale. There are two per year (the other in the fall) and I have yet to participate in any of them. I don't particularly like getting up at dawn on Saturday mornings nor spending more time in my hot, dusty garage than absolutely necessary, which is apparently part of the deal...
I prefer to donate rather than peddle my used wares to passersby and strangers. Especially since there are several worthy charities offering to come to my house on a regular basis to haul off my stuff with little to no effort on my part.
I also don't feel comfortable sifting through my neighbors' belongings. Mostly, because I know I'll be forced to judge them...
My parents on the other hand, LOVED the idea and even purchased a set of file cabinets from our next-door neighbors. (Yep, the ones that I don't think like us very much.) Since then, my mom has been on a garage sale frenzy...
You see, my parents live in a snooty gated community where ANYthing remotely common like doing your own yard work (which my dad does) is severely looked down upon. They are especially anti-garage sale...
Mom has already asked my permission to use our garage/driveway when the next neighborhood-wide sale comes around.
Sure, why not as long as I'm not expected to tend it... (I'll probably be expected to tend it.)
When I told her I had a huge pile of old clothes to go to the next worthy charity that rang my bell, she told me, "No, you should save it for the garage sale." Apparently, she's already getting her stuff ready... sorted, tagged, and priced to sell, sell, sell.
Although, she did express some concerns that my neighborhood may not attract the proper clientele for her obviously fabulous hand-me-downs...
You see, my mom has the same problem I do. She really doesn't want to part with her stuff, just in case...
* P.S. If you ever want to see me in those embarrassingly slutty outfits, you'll have to rent a time machine because Goodwill got hold of them two days ago... As my civic duty, I really never will wear those again.
Although someone else could probably use any one of these FIFTEEN black dress pants that are several sizes too small for me, I still couldn't let go... You know, maybe I can get back to the gym and get really skinny and wear them again.
I'll just put them in the back of the closet...
Please don't tell my husband. You see, my biggest accomplishment was making him get rid of most of HIS stuff, like his old clubbing clothes, ill-fitting pants, and this lovely number from his college days in the early nineties...
Yeah.... I think it pretty much speaks for itself.
A few weeks ago, my parents dropped by while our neighborhood was holding its spring garage sale. There are two per year (the other in the fall) and I have yet to participate in any of them. I don't particularly like getting up at dawn on Saturday mornings nor spending more time in my hot, dusty garage than absolutely necessary, which is apparently part of the deal...
I prefer to donate rather than peddle my used wares to passersby and strangers. Especially since there are several worthy charities offering to come to my house on a regular basis to haul off my stuff with little to no effort on my part.
I also don't feel comfortable sifting through my neighbors' belongings. Mostly, because I know I'll be forced to judge them...
My parents on the other hand, LOVED the idea and even purchased a set of file cabinets from our next-door neighbors. (Yep, the ones that I don't think like us very much.) Since then, my mom has been on a garage sale frenzy...
You see, my parents live in a snooty gated community where ANYthing remotely common like doing your own yard work (which my dad does) is severely looked down upon. They are especially anti-garage sale...
Mom has already asked my permission to use our garage/driveway when the next neighborhood-wide sale comes around.
Sure, why not as long as I'm not expected to tend it... (I'll probably be expected to tend it.)
When I told her I had a huge pile of old clothes to go to the next worthy charity that rang my bell, she told me, "No, you should save it for the garage sale." Apparently, she's already getting her stuff ready... sorted, tagged, and priced to sell, sell, sell.
Although, she did express some concerns that my neighborhood may not attract the proper clientele for her obviously fabulous hand-me-downs...
You see, my mom has the same problem I do. She really doesn't want to part with her stuff, just in case...
Just in case I lose that 20 lbs...
Just in case that ruffled silk peasant shirt come back in style... again
Just in case I do get invited to the White House. This dress would be an excellent choice for a State Dinner....
Just in case I just plain miss it one day...
* P.S. If you ever want to see me in those embarrassingly slutty outfits, you'll have to rent a time machine because Goodwill got hold of them two days ago... As my civic duty, I really never will wear those again.
