So, now that we have (most of) the house organised, it’s time to move onto my wardrobe – which is a much trickier prospect.
The problem here, you see, is that I have plenty of clothes that “spark joy” – if we’re going by the Marie Kondo method of organising and clearing out. I just don’t have any reason whatsoever to actually WEAR them. Which is a problem, really.
Like, I have this absolutely beautiful white dress, for instance. Gorgeous. And, I mean, OK, it’s just from ASOS, so it’s not like it’s some super-special vintage piece that you’d want to pass down through the generations or anything. But, to me, it’s perfect. Beautiful cut, lovely fabric, great fit: the kind of dress that, as soon as I laid eyes on it, I thought, “Dress, you will be mine!” And it was so.
But that was… ooh, maybe four years ago now? Five? And I have NEVER worn that dress. Not ever. Because, the fact is, it might be beautiful, but it’s totally and utterly impractical: not just for the life I have now, as the mother of a toddler, but even for the life I had four years ago, when I first bought it. I mean, no matter how you spin it, this dress is a summer party dress, really. The only kind of “summer party” that would be fancy enough for it, though, would be a wedding or similar, and not only are there no wedding invitations winging their way to me right now (Or not that I know of, anyway), even if there were, I’m old fashioned enough to believe you don’t wear white to a wedding, so it wouldn’t be much use for that either.
Why did I buy it, then, I’m going to pretend to hear you ask?
Because, four or five years ago, that was how I shopped. Randomly. Impulsively. Er, stupidly. I’d see something I loved, and I’d feel like I absolutely HAD to have it, regardless of whether or not I was likely to actually WEAR it any time soon.
I don’t do that any more.
No, these days I’m happy to say that I’ve stuck to my resolution to only buy clothes I know I’m going to wear – and wear often. Clothes I know I’m going to get my money’s worth out of. I no longer want to have a closet filled with party dresses when I spend most of my days at soft play, or wriggling my way under the couch on my stomach to retrieve a stray building block or toy car. To be totally honest, it makes me feel a little bit sick to think of all of the money I’ve spent over the years on beautiful clothes that have rarely – or never – been worn, and, because of that, I’ve actually found it quite easy to stop buying them. Sure, I still have my moments of weakness, but, for the most part, I’m no longer tempted by the clothes I won’t wear, and am concentrating instead on building a wardrobe full of ones I WILL.
That doesn’t make it any easier to get rid of those ‘perfect’ pieces that gave me so much pleasure to buy, though, and which still ‘spark joy’ – for want of a better phrase – when I pull them out of the wardrobe and look at them. That beautiful white dress, for instance, has survived every single wardrobe clear-out I’ve had for the past four years now – and when I came across it again last week, I still struggled to throw it on the ‘donate’ pile. I mean, I’m pretty sure that if I get rid of it, I’ll instantly be invited to exactly the kind of event it would be perfect for – but then, if I don’t, I’m equally sure it’ll just languish in the closet for another 4 – 5 years.
For now, it’s in the ‘I’ll Think About This Later’ pile. But I think I know what I have to do…