Last Kisses & Mini Funerals 

I have been hosting many mini funerals lately. It feels like saying goodbye to the family goldfish with a flush down the toilet. Sometimes it feels like that last kiss (or more) from the boyfriend you need to break up with. 
It is grief on a bite sized scale. 
I love clothes. More specifically, I love shopping. I love the feeling of purchasing stuff or finding that perfect thing so much that I kind of hate it. Buying something nice for myself is a kind of reward. It is an indulgence. I get a rush from it. 

Shopping is like chocolate cake. It serves a purpose and I enjoy it, but if I consume too much, I literally feel ill. I have never gone into debt over it or anything like that, but I have worth and hiding issues tied up in just like people have with all sorts of objects. Labelling this an addiction is over the top. 

I am a functioning person. This is me letting you behind the curtain. So, please no labels, no judgement. I can do that very well on my own, thank you.

So, back to these mini dirges. I prefer to think of them as last kisses. You are what you think, after all. 

I am saying goodbye to most of my wardrobe. It isn’t serving me anymore. I now have a clear idea of how I want to look. Thank you Allison. The rest has got to go. 

Most of the clothes were very easy to let go. Some clothes I had my reservations about. I am finding that wearing them one more time clarifies for me why they need to go or stay.

I force myself to wear them for an entire day. I am proving a point to myself. D Day. Judgement Day. Stay or Go. Around lunchtime or after I have been out in the world a little, I feel uncomfortable or embarrassed a little by the piece of clothing. There is no place for that in my life.

So begins the process of letting go and saying goodbye. It is not a crying and nashing of teeth. I am a grown ass woman. I am out in the world. I am at a cafe or in the grocery store. No one can see this on the outside. It is an inner clarity. A small switch flips. 

Yep. This shirt (or pants or shoes) goes. Decision made. 

So where is it going next? Am I going to try to sell it or give it away? I wash it and separate it from the rest of my wardrobe. Off and out it goes.

The next day, I make a point to wear an outfit I feel great in. It reminds me of how I want to feel and reminds me that clothes can make me feel great. There is no place in life for clothes that don’t make you feel great.

Flush. Kiss. Sniffle. Shed a tear. Say your goodbyes. 

Clear out that closet and make space for…

  
(Photo by Morethananexpat)

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Clothing: What Do I Really Use?

We are getting the flooring in our bedroom replaced. Some water damage from our bathroom flowed through the adjacent wall of our bedroom and soaked into our hardwood flooring. It is a real b&%^h to fix. It involves tearing down our custom made floor-to-ceiling cupboard and storing the copious amounts of clothing, linens and other junk. And we cannot sleep in our bedroom. So our two bodies, a queen sized bed, furniture, any clothes we want wear and the disassembled cupboard need to hang out in one of our two girls’ bedrooms (along with them and their stuff).

Thank goodness we have a big and half empty attic, but the furniture and cupboard cannot fit up there. And who really wants to dig through the attic each morning for clothes? Not me. I bought two clothing racks to replicate the hanging space from our cupboard, but we are still basically surrounded by our stuff. It is one of my worst nightmares.

I donated as much stuff as I could manage, but I may do another sweep. We are halfway through the four week project and I realised that I basically wear the same three long sleeved cotton H&M shirts with a black H&M tank top under it, a fleece vest over it and a pair of jeans. That is my Mama Wear. My Work Wear is a sweater dress, tights and boots. And do my workout clothes count if I am not working out? I wear pajamas, socks and underwear too, of course. That’s it.

The girls could easily live with seven outfits. I think my husband has been getting by with five sweaters, five tee shirts, three pairs of jeans and one pair of dress pants. It is so tempting for me to donate the rest. And yet, it will feel equally as compelling to fill our cupboard right back up after is it rebuilt. It is such a hard cycle for me to break.