Much of today was spent reorganizing my closet. Which, in an odd twist of Gibb-related fate, the Mom was also doing. I do this every so often because I am truly OCD. That coupled with the fact that my closet is literally that-- a closet (not much bigger than about six square feet (if that)). But I have used my space wisely and have all of my non-hanging clothes packed into 10 plastic storage bins and a laundry basket (the bins being stacked in three rows). I started this endeavor in order to make room in my dresser for some pajamas and jeans that always seemed to just be lying on one of the chairs in our bedroom, for lack of any place else to put them. I figured if I cleared out enough room in the closet bins, dresser items could be moved to the bins and the clothes on the chair could go into the dresser! All perfectly logical.
I basically touched every piece of clothing I own today (other than that which is in the separate hanging closet... that will be a challenge for another day). May I just say, to all of my friends and family? If you ever see me attempting to purchase another t-shirt again STOP ME. The only exception to this rule? White t-shirts. They're allowed, so long as I vow to throw out whatever other white t-shirt I have that has become totally dingy. White t-shirts are on a strict buy-to-replace system. Otherwise, I don't think I'll need another T-shirt until the next millennia. I have t-shirts in every color of the rainbow (and more black t-shirts than you can shake a stick at). My usual weakness is that said t-shirt is "soft" (god help me if I'm exposed to modal!) Yeah, okay. I don't need any more.
Sweaters? Sweaters come in a close second to the t-shirts, but for the fact that apparently in my not too distant past I must have had some sort of body dismorphic disorder because 50% of my sweaters are waaay too large for me. (I then, apparently, had some sort of body-dismorphic shift where I believed I was the size of a 12 year old because I also have an inordinate number of Petite Bateau t-shirts in sizes which would appear to barely fit Sophie). Is it the washing machine that has shrunk all of these items or did I really think I could squeeze into them? I even found a hat that was too small.... what was I thinking??
Pants? I have more black capri pants than Audrey Hepburn had. Unfortunately, many of them seem to have sprung from the loins of the Gap and when washed take on a crumpled look and tend to attract lint like nobody's business.
I have now reorganized my tubs so that much of the items are packed away by season and one tub specifically has my ever growing collection of items from Theory. Leave it to me to have one top in four different colors. The inherent problem here is that I can't see all of the stuff that I have at any one time so I am left to try and maintain a mental catalogue of my wardrobe in my head. I either have to remember what I have and where it is located at all times (thus leaving little room in my brain for important things like my address and today's date) or I have to dress like Einstein and just keep wearing the same pair of jeans and one of three sweaters that is on top of the pile in the laundry basket.
Thankfully, I have restocked the sweaters on top of the pile so the locals in these parts have probably seen my pink wrap sweater for the last time this season.
I don't even want to think about taking on the shoe closet!