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Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Sick Clothes
Over the past week or two, I have been in a delightfully (though somewhat angry) organizational mindset, which has made my attic and closet the target of an intense makeover. I have discussed this strange and rare phenomena with friends, and we have all agreed that you really need to be in the correct mindset when taking on such projects.
Frankly, you have to be a little disgusted and angry. Depressed is NOT a good mindset when it comes to organizing your closet. Depressed is not a good mindset, because everything will go into the "possibly keep" or "decide later" pile, rather than in the "throw out immediately" or "donate" pile.
"How can I throw this out? I wore it on my first date with Charlie in 1972!"
"Well, I know that I never found a pair of fluorescent pink shoes to match this top, but you never know.... I could find them, and if I get rid of this out now, I'll be pissed!"
"If I lose just another five pounds, this might look really good!"
Well, the planets aligned; I was in a properly angry mindset, and, God be praised, a local charity has deposited one of those large green clothing and shoes receptacles right across the street from my home. Let me tell you, folks, those large green receptacles are a huge incentive when it comes to closet cleaning.
Do you know how many times I have gone through my clothes, gathered many a "donate" bag full of items, and then put them right back into the attic? That big green box, right there across the street, was my beacon of hope. Plus, the angry mood helped.
So let's address that further.
Being in an angry mood does wonders when it comes to throwing or giving things away.
As I mentioned, rather than feeling sentimental towards articles of clothing, you feel pissed instead that you are pathetically holding on to something that is associated with someone who probably turned out to be an a$$hole who broke your heart. Or you notice that you had forgotten about a lot of those "when I lose five pounds" items, and, since you've lost forty pounds, the items are now completely worthless and look like crap. (If that isn't a mood brightener, I don't know what is..) And I know this may come as a shock to you, but rather than negatively thinking, "well, I better keep this just in case I gain the weight back," I think, "screw this! I'm dumping it!" And knowing that I'm donating this item to someone who has possibly been searching all their lives for a fluorescent pink top makes the parting that much sweeter.
Today, however, I realized that I have one small problem with the dumping of certain clothes; the clothes that are definitely not green-box worthy now, nor were they ten years ago, when they were already ten years old.
After having filled two large bags with clothing and never-worn but they were on sale shoes, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I've resurrected some forgotten items, gleefully donated jeans which were too big, and located three previously missing winter gloves. Feeling positively fearless, I finally delved into my dresser drawers, which are generally for my underwear, socks, and clothes which do not need to be hung in a closet.
Now this may seem perfectly innocent, but the fact is, clothes which do not need to be hung in a closet are basically my junk clothes, or clothes that I will not wear in public. Sweatpants (and I mean the real kind of sweatpants... heavy, old, with elastic around the ankles, circa 1992), tee shirts with paint stains, workout clothes (like the tank tops with the built in bras that you would never wear to the gym but thought that maybe you might, some day, so you bought them anyway), things like that.
I came across three pairs of sweatpant-like items. I remembered that one pair had felt and looked great when I first wore them, but had shrunk in length after the first washing, and I never threw them out because I was pissed that they had been so awesome, even if only for that one day. I tried them on again, and, while they were still too short, I wore them for the day, because I wanted one last go round with them.
The other two pairs were also too short. Like, too short to even wear with slippers. But ohhhh goodness, were they comfy. So I folded them back up, to be placed in my drawers, because, and I'm 100% serious here, I thought, "these would be good to wear when I'm sick."
I know, you think I'm already sick. That's not the kind of sick to which I'm referring. Though I suppose comfy clothes are nice for mentally sick people as well. The sick I'm speaking of involves either staying in bed all day, or generally shuffling around the house in a listless manner (more so than usual, I mean), but attempting to seem somewhat human by actually being in clothing, rather than your pajamas.
I admit that it gave me food for thought that I am now saving clothes for when I am sick, rather than for when I lose another five pounds or find the matching shoes, but strangely, I struck it from my mind rather immediately, and felt it was completely reasonable to have sick clothes in my dresser. Some folks save their clothing for future happy times of weight loss or school reunions where they plan to wear that hot dress. I apparently have more lofty visions of shuffling around in highwaters when I'm sick.
Pretty inspiring, I think.
In a slightly sick way. I know.
Frankly, you have to be a little disgusted and angry. Depressed is NOT a good mindset when it comes to organizing your closet. Depressed is not a good mindset, because everything will go into the "possibly keep" or "decide later" pile, rather than in the "throw out immediately" or "donate" pile.
"How can I throw this out? I wore it on my first date with Charlie in 1972!"
"Well, I know that I never found a pair of fluorescent pink shoes to match this top, but you never know.... I could find them, and if I get rid of this out now, I'll be pissed!"
"If I lose just another five pounds, this might look really good!"
Well, the planets aligned; I was in a properly angry mindset, and, God be praised, a local charity has deposited one of those large green clothing and shoes receptacles right across the street from my home. Let me tell you, folks, those large green receptacles are a huge incentive when it comes to closet cleaning.
Do you know how many times I have gone through my clothes, gathered many a "donate" bag full of items, and then put them right back into the attic? That big green box, right there across the street, was my beacon of hope. Plus, the angry mood helped.
So let's address that further.
Being in an angry mood does wonders when it comes to throwing or giving things away.
As I mentioned, rather than feeling sentimental towards articles of clothing, you feel pissed instead that you are pathetically holding on to something that is associated with someone who probably turned out to be an a$$hole who broke your heart. Or you notice that you had forgotten about a lot of those "when I lose five pounds" items, and, since you've lost forty pounds, the items are now completely worthless and look like crap. (If that isn't a mood brightener, I don't know what is..) And I know this may come as a shock to you, but rather than negatively thinking, "well, I better keep this just in case I gain the weight back," I think, "screw this! I'm dumping it!" And knowing that I'm donating this item to someone who has possibly been searching all their lives for a fluorescent pink top makes the parting that much sweeter.
Today, however, I realized that I have one small problem with the dumping of certain clothes; the clothes that are definitely not green-box worthy now, nor were they ten years ago, when they were already ten years old.
After having filled two large bags with clothing and never-worn but they were on sale shoes, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I've resurrected some forgotten items, gleefully donated jeans which were too big, and located three previously missing winter gloves. Feeling positively fearless, I finally delved into my dresser drawers, which are generally for my underwear, socks, and clothes which do not need to be hung in a closet.
Now this may seem perfectly innocent, but the fact is, clothes which do not need to be hung in a closet are basically my junk clothes, or clothes that I will not wear in public. Sweatpants (and I mean the real kind of sweatpants... heavy, old, with elastic around the ankles, circa 1992), tee shirts with paint stains, workout clothes (like the tank tops with the built in bras that you would never wear to the gym but thought that maybe you might, some day, so you bought them anyway), things like that.
I came across three pairs of sweatpant-like items. I remembered that one pair had felt and looked great when I first wore them, but had shrunk in length after the first washing, and I never threw them out because I was pissed that they had been so awesome, even if only for that one day. I tried them on again, and, while they were still too short, I wore them for the day, because I wanted one last go round with them.
The other two pairs were also too short. Like, too short to even wear with slippers. But ohhhh goodness, were they comfy. So I folded them back up, to be placed in my drawers, because, and I'm 100% serious here, I thought, "these would be good to wear when I'm sick."
I know, you think I'm already sick. That's not the kind of sick to which I'm referring. Though I suppose comfy clothes are nice for mentally sick people as well. The sick I'm speaking of involves either staying in bed all day, or generally shuffling around the house in a listless manner (more so than usual, I mean), but attempting to seem somewhat human by actually being in clothing, rather than your pajamas.
I admit that it gave me food for thought that I am now saving clothes for when I am sick, rather than for when I lose another five pounds or find the matching shoes, but strangely, I struck it from my mind rather immediately, and felt it was completely reasonable to have sick clothes in my dresser. Some folks save their clothing for future happy times of weight loss or school reunions where they plan to wear that hot dress. I apparently have more lofty visions of shuffling around in highwaters when I'm sick.
Pretty inspiring, I think.
In a slightly sick way. I know.
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