Last weekend, in a fit of pique, I attacked my closet and culled my tops and blazers.
And with the bro-in-law’s help, I was able to substantially thin the herd. After several hours of trying on and justifying and discarding (during which time I totally missed out on an eBay auction I was watching which goes to show that karma’s a bitch), I felt a little bit like this guy:
Why? Because all my mad dervishing in the depths and my feverishly tossing out item after item resulted in an empty hanger count that ultimately totaled thirty-six.
That means I can theoretically add thirty-six pieces back in, right?
I know, I know. Slap me on the wrist already. Of course I won’t do anything so rash. My new shopping game plan prevents such excess after all. Besides, I really like the way my hangers slide on the racks rather than sitting on top of each other like they’d done. (And they’re the thin hangers too, so you can imagine what my closet had looked like before.)
Right now, this minute, my closet looks like this:
And right below are my blazers and that looks like this:
Yes, I color coordinate. But let’s not get distracted by the pretty rainbow. Take a close gander at the hangers, my friends.
Look at them there hangers all spaced out in lovely, uniform, soldierly formation. Yeah, yeah, I could probably stand to lose more of those tops, but baby steps, yeah?
In the next few weeks, I intend to do the same culling with my sweaters and sweatshirts and cardis, but that will only happen once the temperature turns because I’m not martyr enough to try on my cold-weather wardrobe in 80+ degree heat, no matter that the hubs keeps our thermostat at an obscene 72 at all times.
While we wait for that next round, how about a sneak peek at my 50 dresses? (They share space with my tanks and maxi skirts, so don’t get all clever and count the hangers and call me a fibber.)
This is the section of my closet that fell, if you recall. Right above are all my pants, jeans and foldable skirts (pencil, jersey, et al.) which have already gone through the culling process but may need another round if my pudge insists on spending the winter with me.
It’s been a long, strange ride, my friends, and I’ve lost my way several times, but I feel the tides they are a-turning, and perhaps I can go back to the original purpose of this blog and finally find my way home.