|You need to try everything on|
I'm always amazed that something I enjoyed wearing one year can look so terrible the next.
It's closet switching time. Though still warm and muggy in south Texas, the days are shorter, turkeys are piled high in the supermarket, and Christmas ornaments for sale in aisle 6. There's not enough closet space in this little bungalow, so I keep half my things in giant plastic tubs behind a screen in the bedroom. Twice a year I haul out the containers and start the process.
|A girl can dream|
I never hang everything, because of course I can't fit into it all. I'm a firm believer that unworn wardrobe will shrink of its own volition while resting. Some things are hard to give up, but after a year I realize it will be "never again". Out they go— with a sigh.
But there are other things that made me happy just nine months ago. These still fit, but are the clothes for another person. Those ruffles? That full skirt? A bolero jacket? Some of it is Style. I'm as finely attuned to that as a sommelier is to wine. Maybe 20014 wasn't such a great year. Did I change that much? Did fashion? Who am I now?
As I try things on (and you have to do that) I ask myself: Is this appropriate for a 73-year-old woman? It's a bit like playing with a hang-nail. I can't resist the urge to inflict a little pain. It still surprises me I am how old???????????? I want to embrace this gift with dignity and a sense of fun but don't want to look silly. I have to ask the question, even if I am giving myself the answer.
A bunch of stuff gets donated and some taken for resale. The resale shop doesn't give much (not a consignment set-up), but I've found some goodies there myself in the past. I like the idea of giving someone else a chance to enjoy mine.
Don't worry; I'm not getting the least bit ascetic. I couldn't leave without hauling home an ankle length faux-fur black Mongolian lamb vest for $14.
|Add 12 inches|