I can’t quite fathom how it has happened.
I think it is analogous to how quick and easy it is to put on weight but how hard it is to lose weight. Or perhaps, but I really wouldn’t know, how long it takes to get fit enough to run 5km but how easy it is to lose fitness.
A year without buying clothes. A year of slowly decluttering.
And I really haven’t gone crazy.
But somehow some things have snuck in. A couple of walking 3/4 length pants, some socks, a skirt, 5 dresses, a top, a singlet top, another top, 2 sleeveless tops, a T-shirt, a polo shirt, 3 pairs of shoes, masses of cosmetic products, a 1950s hat, (Look, I know I will probably never wear it but in my defence it is gorgeous and a better souvenir of our trip to NZ than some plastic tat), 2 handbags.
Yes, yes, yes, most of them have I carried in. They didn’t sneak in on their own.
And yes, I get it that some of you, dear readers, may disagree with my assertion that I haven’t gone crazy.
And now my wardrobes are looking a little cluttered. OK, I’m being a bit mendacious. My cupboard is chaotic and messy. I am reverting to having to pull everything out to find the top I want.
Dear me, please don’t think my numerous posits on the evils of cheap clothing were empty. Please don’t judge me a hypocrite. Remember on many occasions I have disclosed that I hold opposing positions, that I am inconsistent, that I embrace my internal paradoxes.
OK, enough messing around. Here’s the view:
And you know, buying clothes is not the issue. I am happy updating my look, having new clothes, buying clothes more appropriate for my age.
But it’s that I am having difficulty letting go of some things. Not wearing them is not an indication that I will never wear them in the future.
Time for another look and sort! Tomorrow I’ll show you what I’ve let go.