Wine Before Five
Because Life is Good, & Sweet & Short
& the Ordinary is Extraordinary
I’m A Keeper
OK, we’ve all heard the advice: if you haven’t worn it in the past 12 months, toss it. Give it away, throw it away. Whatever; you don’t need it.
My system for organizing and sorting is well-thought out and fault-free. I began weeks ago: I emptied my closets, I emptied my drawers. I washed everything. I stacked and sorted. Then I kind of let things ferment for a while. First on the floor of one bedroom, currently not in use. Then, making progress, I moved things to the floor of the guest room, which I know will be occupied by my sister in two weeks, so I can’t put off the sorting more than one week. It’s my own form of encouragement by creating a deadline for myself.
I took three large stacks of clothes into my own bedroom and placed them carefully on the bed. I brought in colored trash bags, carefully saved paper shopping bags, black trash bags for genuine trash, and a black Sharpie marker for labeling. I am nothing if not organized. I planned to be heartless, relentless in my determination to have streamlined, organized, useful closets. And I began to sort.
Aw, I love this sweater! It has to stay – it’s frayed at the hem, and has Clorox stains on it, but it’s so soft and comfy and really broken-in just right. And these jeans? Look at those frayed hems! I earned those when I was so thin that they dragged on the floor and Wilt referred to me as “The Incredible Shrinking Woman.” I need those – they boost my self-esteem.
I’m terrible at this. I look at things, think “This is like throwing away money! I love this navy sweater; I don’t care if I have five navy sweaters. I don’t want to give up this hoodie even if a puppy chewed a hole in the pocket – it reminds me of her; it’s my “Lucky” hoodie. And these shoes? What would I wear with grey slacks if not these? I mean, if I actually had grey slacks…
Oh, yeah, I’m terrible at this.
Maybe I just need a larger closet. But why? All I like to wear are jeans with navy tees or navy sweaters. Really. For me, “dressed up” is khakis with a navy top. Or black. And for really dressy occasions, black dress pants with a black top.
Finally, I parted with a few things I never really liked. They weren’t navy tops, jeans, khakis or black anythings anyway. I ended up with about 12 items in one small bag to give away. I gazed at the guest room floor. There was no visible dent in the stacks of clothes.
Sorry, clothes and closets, I was born to Depression-Era parents. Make do, use it up, wear it out. And then make it into rags. So I’m going to blame my parents for all these things I cannot part with.
I’m not a hoarder. I’m a Keeper.