There is no task I dread more than cleaning out my closet.
It’s a reminder of the clothes I hate and the clothes I love that I can no longer wear. Now that winter is officially dud (as kiddo pronounces “dead”), I knew it was time to purge.
First up, I tossed anything with stains or teeny holes. They were all those wardrobe malfunctions that we pretend can be concealed by cardigans. AKA Mommywear.
Next to face the firing squad was the skinny bitch clothes. That entailed all those things that I kept thinking I’d need if ever skinny again. But let’s be honest, if I’m ever rocking a size 4 during this lifetime, my butt will go on a gigantic shopping spree. Oddly enough, those were easier to toss than the hole-y MFers.
Last to go were the things I had no business wearing, whether because I’m
almost for…for… not as close to 30 as I used to be or they make me look even bigger than I am. You know those oversized clothes we buy thinking they’ll conceal flaws only to realize they make us look like beach balls? I’m looking at you, tunics. Buh-bye!
I ended up filling one of these Goodwill-ready XXL Ziploc storage packs, leaving me with one rack of clothes.
I tossed a few pairs of shoes into the garage sale stack (never-worn ski boots… gold glitter TOMS I should have never purchased). I have a lot more shoes that can go, but I’m not ready yet. I have a much harder time giving up shoes. Even if I haven’t worn them in ages… even if wearing them would be sheer torture, I just can’t.
Yeah, I have isshoes.