“Buy me, buy me!”
“I’m on sale too!”
“I would look so good with that black velvet top you wear everywhere!”
“If you’re getting that bag, then you might as well get those matching shoes!”
“Treat yo self!”
All the memories come flooding back as I stare down my wardrobe, its open doors beckoning me to return to countless scenes of the same crime. I pull out the cream jumper with the fur neckline and contemplate. I don’t even remember buying it. I feel like I’ve had it for ages. It seems like it’s never not been in the back of my wardrobe. The same thought can be applied to most things in here. Even the ones with the price tags still on, (of which there are many)!
I realise spring has arrived, and I know that my wardrobe is in need of a major clean and a clear out. Its time! But then why is it this hard? It’s a paradox. As easy as it is to spend money on new clothes, that’s how hard I’m finding it to get rid of the old ones. Size aside, there are many reasons to. You either never wear it, or can’t seem to understand why you bought it in the first place. Surely this should justify the removal, but it doesn’t.
Reasons to avoid a clear out seem to always overweigh any inclination I have towards spring-cleaning my wardrobe. It’s the knowledge that there will always be potential. I’m looking at you, black cotton jumper with the slit sleeves. You were purchased several Christmases ago, and have still only been worn once. But come winter, its nice to know you will still be there, ready when I need you.
Even the clothes that have gone out of trend have the chance of making a return. And there are always new ways of wearing old items. Aside from being one of my favourite pastimes, mixing and matching to create new outfits can usually be a great way to determine which pieces are actually practical, and worth keeping.
I guess the main reason why I hardly ever clear out my wardrobe isn’t always in my control at the end of the day. The potential for some of them will naturally run out, as I get older. After all, it’s not like I’ve always had all the clothes I own now. I can barely picture myself wearing some of them even a year ago. In the same way, some things may not be as appropriate in a few years time. I probably won’t be caught dead in the hot pink dress I straighten now. A mere impulsive sale mistake. There are so many of those, looking back at me now. When the time comes, I will either pass them over to my younger sister, or throw them out. And at the time, I will accept it. But for now, I feel perfectly satisfied by my overcrowded wardrobe, embracing the fact that I just have too many clothes.