Today we did a big drop-off at the Salvation Army thrift shop. With the peanut outgrowing things daily, there's a steady stream of stuff to donate or pass on, but more importantly for my own self, I have begun a thorough closet purge.
I'm not one who loves accumulating things. Still, a big closet can be so sneaky, hiding all those keep-or-donate decisions in dark corners until you're either ready to make them or unbearably fed up with not making them. The sheer volume of stuff that I've tried on, voted down, boxed up, and hauled out has sort of amazed me.
Out with the khakis and button down shirts, as I'm no longer in that kind of day job (in my career I regularly dressed as a man might on casual Friday. Waste site cleanup didn't really lend itself to fashion forward thinking, or even, say, skirts.) Out with pants that will never fit again, as I need different cuts than before I had children. Out, sadly, with all the cute shoes that no longer fit, as my feet are a half size bigger now (?!). Out with sweaters I just can't wear because a fleece vest is all I can tolerate indoors anymore, even midwinter. Out with things that are beginning to fray, as there will always be more where those came from, and I don't need a backlog of clothes that "don't matter." And out, ruthlessly out out OUT with things that no longer flatter. Life is too short.
And hey, my closet has a floor!
Now I wonder what's in all those bureau drawers.