My closet – overflowing, unorganized, and hard to navigate – is my safe place and the bane of my existence. I love it and I loathe it.
I have an odd attachment/emotional connection to most of the pieces in my closet. Why? Because it's where I spend my hard-earned cash. ( Or, in some older pieces, where I've made my parents spend their hard-earned cash. ) Getting rid of items – regardless if I've worn them once or 100 times – seems wrong. I feel sad, like ridding of an item will rid the memories attached to it.
But one rainy day recently, I couldn't take the madness any longer. I was digging through old, over-worn, ill-fitting items that were scattered across my closet ( and floor, drawers, bathroom, couch... ) and had had enough.
Right then and there I took out every item, tried it on, evaluated its meaning, purpose, and overall quality, and made the executive decision to sell ( Plato's Closet ), donate, or keep.
I freed up plenty of space and feel like getting dressed in the morning is a much easier task than it was in the past. Instead of getting bogged down by things that don't fit, I no longer wear, or that are no longer on style, I'm left with the pieces I love which makes my closet - and myself - happy and at ease.
Plus I got to cross off another item on my 14 in 2014 list.
Plus I got to cross off another item on my 14 in 2014 list.
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