"I got some skeletons in my closet;
And I don't know if no one knows it"
Whoa there, what!?! This ain't no Eminem show. I'm literally cleaning out my closet, and I'm also using literally the way is should be. Big ups for the English language.
After my sort of mini crisis regarding my own mortality, things got a little crazy round these parts. Not sure if it was a manifestation of all that pondering of my own mortality or some sort of fight back against those feelings of being overwhelmed. But over the past few weeks I’ve been progressively cleaning out my closet and have basically removed half of it. Ok maybe a third.
I was stricter and tougher then I’ve ever been on a wardrobe cull before. A sign of my emerging real adulthood perhaps? We will reserve judgement on that.
Regardless I now have a pile of clothes and shoes, (yes I’m even getting rid of shoes, I shocked myself too), and accessories waiting patiently to be sorted, and either donated or sold off to better homes.
The wardrobe cull is surely the single most important, sartorial related anyway, task you should complete at least once a year. The era of fast fashion we live in means most of us, and I count me there too, tend to accumulate a lot of stuff that often adds no real meaning to our fash-un life.
Cleaning out the crap leaves room for great things to make their way in, that’s pretty deep right there folks. It’s also a cathartic experience. I pulled out a few pieces that held a certain amount of historical value and it was a great feeling to drop them into the pile to go. Like I’m clearing out this top, therefore clearing out all the bad shit that went along with you, oops, I meant it! No, not really I meant you.
The end result of all this, is that I now have a gaping hole in my wardrobe. And a pile of empty hangers too, see above. The thing is I’m not actually rushing to fill it either. Another sign I’ve entered real adulthood?