Different blogs take a different tack: There's the professional sewing blog method (organization as art form), the blogger you know who loves all of her things and is trying to come to terms with near-hoarding, the fast-sewist, her counterpart the "evolved" sewist, the non-fashion blogger who tries to make sense, existentially, of the things she cannot part with for sentimental reasons. There's the growing-family-in-600 sq feet-in-NYC scenario. It goes on...
All of these have one thing in common: They dwell on clothing and what should be kept (on attractive wooden hangers) and what should be culled and how.
Look, I'm all for wooden hangers - which you can use even if your wardrobe is bursting at the seams. But I think the art form scenario (particularly) gets lost as it's conflated with style - not clothing-style, per se, but life style.
Mind you, I'd like to consider this from a slightly different angle - the angle I am reminded of whenever I read these posts (which I love, of course, in full disclosure).
Lots of people appear to be paralyzed in the act of opening the cupboard door. Lots of people keep buying and making the same things over and over again because they're not willing/able to see what's within. I sense a deep metaphor here, but I digress.
What's the fear?
Well, I can tell you mine:
- Will bugs have eaten something precious? (This one's near and dear right now.)
- Will that gorgeous thing I've loved and worn for years actually fit me this season?
The reason I allowed two seasons to go buy without taking serious stock (which I always do - I'm a one-in, one-out kind of girl) is because I didn't want to address the changes in my landscape - interior and exterior. I was afraid of what I might find.
Oh, and I was right to be afraid. A ton of that stuff doesn't fit and a small subset had bug bites.
But, y'all know: there's nothing to fear but fear itself. The net result of my ripping everything apart (including the ever-burgeoning fabric and yarn stash, egad!) is this:
- Everything smells gorgeous. That's what happens when you wash everything in cedar.
- My creativity was stimulated. I upcycled fabric to make delightful sachets of lavender - see bullet above.
- All of my beautiful garments are easily accessible on those wooden hangers.
- They all fit beautifully.
- They're all in perfect condition.
- They're entirely aligned with my emerging aesthetic (one based on my changing shape and new instincts - got to love evolution!)
Mind you, one has to take the first step, opening the door and reviewing, and that's where I was stuck. In full disclosure, my wardrobe was not disastrously full on the basis of the space I have to keep things. I am very tidy by nature. I don't want to make this seem like I was in for the purge of the century, as many others likely should be. When it was time, I sucked it up. A moth helped to motivate me.
And yet I got rid of 40 items with nary a second thought. Better yet, I decided that there are certain things I'm never buying or making again (famous last words, I realize). There's a time and place for the plastic-coated leggings and I feel I'm not there anymore.
So, I'd like to know if you're afraid of your clothes. And, if yes, why? Please, do let me know! It will enrich our organization post-reading all the more.