Closet Calamity

Houses built a hundred years ago did not have an abundance of

storage. People had fewer belongings than yours truly, who has single-handedly managed to collect a wardrobe that could dress an entire group of slightly odd, older women.  Somehow, my clothing multiplied when I wasn’t paying attention and most of that went into my bedroom armoire since there is no closet in that room. Initially, that worked well and I put the overflow of blouses into the small closet that’s in the other bedroom. But then Jake got a larger bed and decided to push it up against that closet door. Translated that means that I haven’t laid eyes on those garments in years. I’ve been too busy stuffing newer items that I occasionally wear into what’s left of the space in the armoire. Talk about a black hole, here it is.

So today I did the unthinkable and took every single thing out of the lofty cabinet and put it on top of our bed. After fainting I took a few photos. See for yourselves what a motley mess I made. I’ve been dreading this day but knew it was fast approaching since there are too many outfits I couldn’t complete without being able to see where the components are hiding. The problem was the addition of several parkas that blow up like blimps when I place them inside the cupboard, covering everything else from sight. So it’s no wonder that I’ve been reduced to wearing other clothes that are stacked relatively neatly in other places outside of the armoire or shoved into drawers. And with winter coming I need those wool sweaters to appear without having to throw out the lot before I locate the right one.

So I cleaned it from top to bottom and chose a different place for my jackets and vests and assortment of dresses I haven’t worn since the dawn of time. But I did take out a few things to give away, like that safari jacket that was expensive but is cut so short it accentuates all the wrong parts of my body in the worst way possible. And when did I think I was going on safari? I can’t even remember when that jacket was all the rage. Maybe I was blindfolded when I bought it. It’s made so well too, like that expensive pair of jeans with the extra heavy denim that look great, until I turn around. I’m not even going to admit which side is worse than the other.  

Quietly but with determined resolve I am weeding out the most horrendous clothes I own that are, in a word, atrocious on me. But at least I had a few good laughs as I tried on the most unbecoming clothes that have wasted away waiting for me to put them on. Poor things. They will go to better homes than mine, where they can luxuriate in splendor in a real closet.  

When I get my strength back I will tackle the hat rack.