Sometimes, I just feel completely out of control. In the midst of a million deadlines, studying for 637583 finals, moving without anyone's help (I even filled out my roommate's paperwork, and changed our lease signing time because she didn't feel like getting out of bed. Pooooor girl. Love her death, but...), there are times I feel like I've actually stopped moving, and the world is just whirling around me. I tend to think, in hindsight, that I would have done anything to make it all stop, or even slow it down, but it's actually these exact times I'm thrown into an almost catatonic state of ennui. This is my biggest flaw, no question- how do I push myself "over the hump" when I most desperately want to sit and do nothing?
I was bored at home last Sunday night and opened up a still-packed box. Inside were piles upon piles of clothes I'd last seen in September, right before I moved (you didn't believe me when I described my mid-whirlwind state as catatonic, did ya? Bet you believe it now!)...and I'd almost completely forgotten about most of the pieces I saw. V-neck Abercrombie sweaters, striped Old Navy cardigans, some old men's Hanes v-neck tees I'd bought (I've had some hipster moments, don't hate). These were items I would now only wear on laundry day, and even then, I'd probably put up a fight. And yet...I refused to put most of it in the "donate" pile.
I realized that my old qualifier for keeping something vs getting rid of it- "it still fits!"- would no longer be discriminating enough to keep my wardrobe from splitting at the seams. I was distraught. Back in the day, if it fit my body and I could find an inch of room for it in a drawer, I kept it. Now, not only did I want it to look good on my body, I wanted it to fit my personal style, and I wanted to have room enough in my wardrobe to actually be able to see what I owned! Caught in a moment between girlhood and something verging on sartorial maturity, I felt the pull...of my bed. "Sit on me," it beckoned. "Embrace your chaos-induced apathy and watch some Catfish reruns!" I felt like the 50-some shirts lying between the box and my bed were threatening to paralyze me, but for once in the last few months, I fought back. I picked up the dusty pink v-neck sweater I'd just tried on. It still fit nicely enough, I'd mused. But it didn't *do* anything for me. It didn't make my waist look tiny, or my boobs look big, or my skin look dewy and glowy (what? Some colors will do that!). It was just there. In that moment, I remembered why I love my industry so much- clothes do things for us. They tell the world who we are, or who we want to be, depending on the day. Even the way we style them communicates something to an outsider about our creativity, our sense of adventure, our likes, dislikes, insecurities. This sweater was everything clothes shouldn't be- there, purposeless, there, covering up who I could express myself to be. Shaken, I threw it on top of the measly "nothin' doin'" pile.
And so it continued for the next 2 hours. If something didn't do my body or style a favor when I put it on, away it went. When I reached the bottom of the box, I was shocked with what I'd chosen to keep: SO. MANY. BASICS. They really are the anchor to any wardrobe, and it's because of those rules I listed- they look good on me (tried and true!), they complement my style, and, quite frankly, they make getting dressed EASY. And that's what I'm all about, right? I just want my mood to translate smoothly into a look, and that's pretty much easy dressing in a nutshell.
So what's my next step here? I still have 4 packed boxes, and after only one (half of which I have since given away), my drawers are stuffed. I think I'm going to go back through the drawers (yes, again) and do the same exercise I did with that box. I'm not really looking forward to the ensuing tedium, but I've gotta say- the idea of my drawers *not* falling apart, and- dare I say it- actually having room for new investments makes my fashion heart do a little jig in its American Apparel high-waist leggings. You know, because I kept mostly the basics.
