Skip to main content

Purging Can Feel So Good

...or it can make you sick. I have cleaned out my half of our walk-in closet. I noticed my cold-weather clothes were getting all tangled up with my warm-weather clothes, so I decided it was time to store the summer stuff and move the stored sweaters to the handy shelves in my closet.

Turns out it wasn't enough just to move things around. There was too much to store and too much to keep handy. That's where the purging came in—I took some big leaf bags to the shelves and drawers and started pulling out things I no longer wanted. I found things I haven't worn in a couple of years and things that haven't fit in a couple of years and things that didn't fit the day they arrived in the mail. That's always a problem when you order clothes from a catalog, but you're supposed to return or exchange the things that don't fit. What I have done instead is keep the stuff because some day it just might fit.

Who am I kidding? During this cleaning exercise, I decided to be ruthless and to bag up anything and everything I can't or won't wear right now. No exceptions. No room for sentiment. No room for blind hope.

Before I knew it, I had four leaf bags full of clothes, enough to fill up my trunk and enough to justify a trip to Goodwill. Once the clothes were out of the way, the dust bunnies floating along the edges of the closet became more apparent. To my surprise, they weren't dust bunnies at all but full-grown jack rabbits. I vacuumed them up but not before I had breathed in enough dust to trigger a lung infection and had to trust my immune system to kick it in the butt. It did.

Here is my question to you: do you save clothes just because they might fit some day or because they have sentimental value?

Comments

dive said…
Wow! You have a walk-in closet?
Summer clothes and winter clothes?
Sheesh! AAll of my clothes would fit into a couple of smallish suitcases.
I'm glad I'm not a woman.
Anonymous said…
ABSOLUTELY!
Alifan said…
You are so right Robyn.. thing is now, age matters as well, as cannot see me in some of the clothes I used to wear as do not want to be mutton dressed as lamb....

Better get some black sacks ready!!!!
Mark said…
Heh. Right now I refuse to buy new jeans cuz in three months they'll be too big. Pretty sure.

One exception tho, my favorite jeans for three years became so shredded I couldn't even wear them for yard work. Still kept 'em for 6 months.
Miz Minka said…
Both. :)

Living in a small apartment with very little storage space has made purging a necessity. Strange thing is, I never miss those clothes once I've donated them! So why was I holding on to them in the first place? Sentimentality, and hope...
Mark said…
Yeah I'm back. The shock just registered; You only get half of your walk-in closet?

My luvly gets the closet. I get the nail on the door, more or less.
Joy said…
I miss my walk in closet! But ruthless is the word. Back in Manila, I used to clean out my closet every quarter. The nuns at school told us that if we haven't used something for at least 3 months, that means we don't really need it and we're depriving others of it. So I give away clothes, shoes, bags, accessories that I haven't used for at least 3 months - to make room for new ones :D

But now in the UK, gosh. It's difficult! Difficult because the season changes every 3 months. It's so darn frustrating having to organise seasonal clothes :)

Thanks for your good wishes, Robyn! Much appreciated.
Good grief! That's a lot. Like Dive, I don't have a lot of clothes. Don't get me wrong, though; if I could, I would!! I have held on to some special clothes. A blue floral dress which one of my sons adored when he was tiny; would always ask me to wear it. Another, a grey silk blouse which I bought very expensively when I first started work. Another, a pretty designer jacket owned by my mother and various pairs of her beautiful shoes.
Mrs. G. said…
I feel so liberated after a Goodwill donation!
I only save my Boxers that have survived monumental birthdays.

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...