Closet purge

I did a big old closet purge today. Maybe a rainy day isn't the right time to completely deconstruct one's closet, but I was desperately trying to not be productive on things I'm actually committed to doing (you know, like cleaning, cooking, or making the orphan costumes I need to finish by next Monday). My little people went down for naps and I headed to my room.

I'll be honest. I only meant to sit down and paint my toenails. But then I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, and the situation was pretty dire. Unplucked eyebrows, frizzy halo of hair, mismatched clothes that I don't even like. All of a sudden I had this weird revelation. Just because I stay at home with my little people and spend 99.4% of my time doing things for other people doesn't mean I have to look like I never see the light of day outside this home. And why do I spend my time wearing horrid ugly outfits and saving my cute clothes for all the places that I'm not even going?

Thus the closet purge.

I stripped down and tried on every single thing I haven't worn in the last six months. Most of it didn't even fit (don't get me started), which meant it went in the discard pile. Then I looked at the things I had in my closet that I don't even like (for whatever reason) and chunked those in the pile. I also pulled out a few maternity stragglers (how were they hiding in there for this long?). I also pulled out things that just don't look right on me, no matter how cute, and added those to the literal mountain that had developed on the closet floor (it was really handy for getting an eye-level view of my top rack so I may just leave it there).

Now it gets really crazy. I organized all the sleeveless shirts together (in color order, or course). Then all the short-sleeved, then all the long-sleeved, and then the cardigans. My now sadly small selection of pants moved down next to the blazers, and I even left a space for cute outfits that I have already put together for wearing. Yep. It's insane. And I'm pleased. Because I'd rather be wearing the same small selection of clothes (and let's just be real - I still have way more clothes than most people) that make me feel good about myself than ill-fitting clothes, or, even worse, pajamas and sweats. Oh yes, friends, it has gotten that bad.

So there you go. I had myself a little intervention. With myself. Because that makes perfect sense. And now I'm happily dressed in a cuddly tunic sweater and a pair of cute, appropriate for public wearing leggings about to drink myself a big fat latte. That's how today went down.

Now, who's ready for a garage sale?