Less Things = Good

I am getting rid of things today. I have bags - big bags, full - sitting in my living room waiting for the perusal of Lane and Amelia (who have too many clothes as it is, I know, but who doesn't like free clothes? At least at first?) Inspired by these articles from NewYorkTimes.com: Six Items or Less and But Will It Make You Happy? - and it also didn't hurt to watch this movie (he only has one coat and she's responsible for every stitch she wears!) - I've been paring down my wardrobe (and other possessions) BIG TIME.

I am in love with getting rid of things, it makes me feel good. And having a bunch of stuff makes me feel bad (not to mention claustrophobic). I am constantly organizing and reorganizing the things I have but nothing is better than purging them for good!

Being married to Tom is a challenge for me (not really) because he is much more of a hoarder (which is cute). During these last two years I have somehow been in a Zen place of accepting my lot (and I do mean LOT) and Tom has actually been wonderful about what I've been able to get rid of.

But the fact remains that we live in a tiny little apartment with close to no storage and we hope to fit a baby - bed, stroller, highchair and all - in here at some point.

So, there's no room. We share a tiny closet and our shoes are shoved into the corners of every room (including kitchen). But really, I just don't wear all my clothes, or appreciate them. I lose clothes underneath other clothes and never wear them. I have too many decisions when it comes to what to wear and often find I hate the way I look and/or feel when I venture from my favorites anyway. And why do I have these things that I never, ever wear?

I have trimmed down my wardrobe many, many times. In fact I'm constantly doing it and there is always (unfortunately, because we don't have the room) a bag to go to Saint Vincent's sitting by the door, usually overflowing. How much money does that represent, I wonder? Sure I only shop at St. Vincent's in the first place but we're trying to pay off Tom's school loans and save for a baby! (Not to mention a house, another baby, etc.) Tom wears out clothes fast enough that we really can't afford to feed my purging fetish with ever new things I don't wear.

I will go shopping again, in fact I recently purchased 5 (count 'em, 5!) new-to-me shirts during a 50% off sale, but when I bought them I thought realistically about what it is I do wear, will wear and don't already have a sufficient supply of (and what is sufficient? OK, I didn't really think about this at the time).

I'm getting rid of uncomfortable underwear, unmatched socks, and the socks that fall down when you walk and the socks that are fine but that I never wear because they're black or tan and I always just wear my favorite black or tan socks.

I'm getting rid of my broken crocs (that are a half size too small) because I ALWAYS wear my Sloggers anyway. I'm getting rid of piles of sweaters that I never wear because I never want to wash them, or that are itchy, or that make me look like a blob. Do you know how much space a sweater takes up?!

I've whittled my hung-up clothes to just the green hangers and my shelf in the closet is now housing the 6 or 7 C.D. binders (that's Tom) that used to be sitting in the middle of the office. Tom went through stacks of C.D.s for me on one rare moment home (Sunday, I guess it was) and we now have a bagful to take to the recycling bin on campus ('cause, trust me, you don't want 'em).

I really must get back to the excitement of the day but I find I am facing one problem with this purge: What am I to do with my sentimental clothes that I'm not wearing?: The shirt I wore on our first date, the first dress Tom ever saw me in (he always speaks so fondly of that moment), the clothes of my Aunt or Grandma who have passed away (and who were roughly my size), my Dad's Navy uniform...? There's no special place to put them so they take up room in my closet. I can't tell if they make me reminisce or frustrate me more but won't I feel like an ass if some day I wish I had them?

*Sigh*

Perhaps I will think this over over a cup of coffee before returning to the excitement of the day.

The moral of this story is still: Less Things = Good.