By Jill Pertler
Last weekend I came out of the closet – with an armload that included an old Christmas sweater, two pairs of mom jeans and a maternity top from 1997.
I’d been aware of the need for an organize-the-closet day, but had been avoiding the task. Now I was (finally) coming clean, much to my own surprise.
I hadn’t planned to spend the day sorting through my impressive collection of leg warmers and shoulder-pad-laden blouses, but I woke in the morning with an inexplicable desire to reinvent the bedroom closet. The task beckoned like an itch and I dove in with the confidence of a woman in possession of a back-scratcher.
There is a certain amount of satisfaction that comes with restoring order to a closet. The action of downsizing creates an innate sense of peace and well-being – in a revitalizing sort of way. Organizing is energizing – and I was as pumped up as any drum-beating bunny.
While I didn’t find any skeletons in my closet, there was a Spiderman costume from Halloween of 2004. Oh what a tangled web we weave, when our closets are stuffed and clothes won’t leave. Spidey was just the beginning.
Long underwear worn long ago on a winter outing. Belts no longer capable of the full trip around my waist. Swimsuit cover-ups – covered with the dust of abandonment. Exercise clothes left over from a 2002 fitness phase. Purses for fancy occasions, purses for casual occasions, purses from before my kids were born because who ever tosses a purse? (You never know when it will come back in style.)
How many black sweaters can one woman own? Believe me, you don’t want to know. I don’t even want to know and I am that woman.