Artifacts in the Closet

My closet is a mess.

No, seriously.  I’m taking a break from a clutter/clothes purge.  Ever notice how clutter always, always always gets worse before it gets better?

So far I’ve placed about 50 items into two lawn-size trash bags, destined for charity.  I found many lumpy sweaters that I never wore before as well as a “springy” dress that I bought on a whim three years ago…and have not yet worn outside the privacy of my closet.  Every time I put it on, I feel like an over-iced cupcake.  Or a clown. I’ll file this one in the “what in the world was I thinking?” column.

Apparently girls need fifteen black shirts, give or take a few. I’m giving most and keeping those that have bling.  The more my hair fades, the more I wear bling.  The sparkles on the clothes draw the eye away from the silvery glint in the hair.  That’s my theory, anyway.

Among the interesting archeological finds in my closet are several pieces of clothing that belong to my daughter.  Scratch that.  USED to belong to my daughter. Finders keepers!  Especially those dressy dresses with bling!  I will give her back her ice skating competition dress.  I really have no need of flirty skating skirts, although the crystal stones have appeal…

I’ve also learned that my closet was constructed for the Jolly Green Giant and his kin. The shelves helpfully arrayed on top of the hanging clothes are completely out of my reach.  So these past seven years I’ve resorted to standing on boxes, tupperware bins, and stacks of clothing to reach them haphazardly.  Consequently everything stored on the shelves looks as if it has been thrown rather than folded and placed. (Because it has, probably.)  There’s also a rod about twelve feet off the ground, near the ceiling.  Even my hulky husband who stands well over six feet tall cannot place hangers on that pole.  We keep talking about getting one of those tele-hooks so we can actually hang things up there…but I figure we’ll get to that when we get to the bottom of our fix-it/buy-it list….in another twenty years or so.

So for now, I’ve decided to reuse some plastic drawers that *used* to be home to scores of Barbie dolls, Barbie clothes, and plastic people my daughter used to refer to as “figures.”  (It was such a hoot hearing my then-four-year-old daughter announce to me that she was going to go play with her “figures.”) The figures are now donated (bittersweet to me), and I will soon use the drawers in place of the too-high-for-me shelves.

It feels good to clear out the old. I hope these clothes find a happy home.  Somewhere out there is a size 0 girl who needs a clown dress, right?

Back to the mess I go.  If I find more interesting artifacts I’ll post them, so stay tuned…

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