When our closet collapsed a few weeks ago, I was faced with the daunting challenge of organizing hang-up clothes, with no place to hang them. My solution was to hang up the items that A) needed to be hung up and B) were in season. Sweaters, long sleeve shirts, and super-dressy clothes we never wear were all piled, still on the hangers, in the back of our bedroom. MrZ usually prefers his t-shirts hung up because he doesn’t like them to have wrinkles. Now, the kinda nice/cool t-shirts he wears when we go out to places beyond our driveway and other than the gym? I understand now wanting those shirts with creases. But the t-shirts with the holes and grass stains? The one’s he wears to workout in, or while he mows the grass? Can’t those be folded? Is it really important that your shirt be wrinkle-free when you’re doing your bicep curls? Or pulling weeds?
Needless to say, all of his t-shirts ended up getting folded. And stacked on a box of books we still haven’t unpacked since we moved in.
So now, in the back of our bedroom, we have 10+ boxes of books that we were keeping packed until we could buy some bookshelves. And in front of those boxes? We have random piles of clothes. It kinda makes me crazy every time I look at it. I’ve been thinking about getting a curtain rod and hanging a curtain to block that clutter. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
There are times when I honestly wonder if it would be a bad thing just to take all of that crap and donate it to charity. We have so many clothes we keep “just in case.” Just in case we need to get dressed up (Why does MrZ need 15 ties? Why do I need 15 dresses?). Just in case we need to dress retro (Why do I still have all of my hippie clothes?). Just in case we lose that last 15lbs. Just in case we get married again. Or something like that. Would our lives really be that bad off if I didn’t have that shiny black skirt? Or if MrZ only had, like three ties?
And all of the books. I’ve always enjoyed buying hardback copies of books from my favorite authors. Between that and MrZ’s need to keep every textbook from college, we have a shitload of books. What, exactly, are we going to do with them? Read them again? Look at them and tell people, “I read those.” I mean, they’re Dean Koontz and Patricia Cornwell – not Hawthorne and Faulkner. It’s not like we’re displaying our literary prowess owning hardback copies of all of the James Patterson/Alex Cross series. We’re just showing of my crappy popular fiction addiction. Why must we do that?
I think it would be cathartic to just purge one day. Just say, “Here. Take this. Enjoy it. Burn it. Whatever.” And start over. I don’t think I could break the sentimental ties with the stupid crap to do it, but I kinda wish I could. Instead, I’ll just continue to slowly throw away MrZ’s crap when he’s not looking. It gives me the same sense of cleansing without having to part with my stuff.
But don’t tell him I said that.
Update from 2020: Hee…this was foreshadowing to the great downsize of 2015-2017