Finally! Time for spring cleaning. Ok, I do spring cleaning about every two months (except I usually call it “OCD Clean the Apartment Day,” and I schedule it on my calendar). But now that it almost isn’t freezing anymore and baseball season has started, it gives me occasion to do a Real Spring Cleaning. That means every surface, every corner, no mercy. I love spring cleaning.
I was looking at my shoe wall the other day and I thought to myself, hmmm… maybe it’s time to go through my clothes again. Yes, I said shoe wall as in a wall of shoes. It’s adjacent to the mirror wall. The truth is, for various reasons (like “my personalities need options” and “oh look, there’s an Old Navy right next to the grocery store…”) I have more clothing than it would ever be possible for me to wear. Since it is time to put away my winter sweaters and get out my spring sweaters (oh, New England…), the timing was perfect for a good purge. And the one thing that bulimia gets right is that purging feels good.
However, as vicious and judgmental as we can be when it comes to the wardrobes of others, when it comes to ourselves we’re much too soft. I called up my fabulously stylish friend A, told her of my plan and asked her if she would help me whittle down my wardrobe. “Do you want me to be brutal or girl brutal?” she asked. Now, when a girl generally asks for “honesty” or “brutality” or “truth” what she means is- tell her that she looks great in everything and she’s perfect the way she is. “Brutal brutal,” I said. “This is getting out of control. My closet is overtaking the apartment and I have nothing to wear.” “Perhaps it’s time to pick a dominant personality,” she said.
A few days later, A came over to help attack the closet (and the suitcases… and the Tupperware under the bed). To my immense surprise, she ended up approving most everything. A few ratty sweaters and some maidenly dresses were shown the proverbial door… and half of my Ralph Lauren collection ended up in the “consignment” pile. Sorry, Grandma, I know you did your best, but the name of this column is not and will never be “Pretty Pretty Polo Princess Goes to the Country Club and Plays Bridge with the Ladies while Sipping Iced Tea and Making Polite Conversation.” It’s simply much too long.
My personal philosophy when it comes to dressing is if I’ve worn it once, I can’t wear it again (this applies mostly to combinations of outfits as opposed to individual pieces, although very few pieces are in heavy rotation to begin with). But A helped me to see my clothing with fresh eyes. “You’ve got a style,” she said. “You’re just not using it.” Those low-slung corduroys don’t make my legs look short and stumpy, they just need to be paired with an empire waist blouse to visually extend the line of the leg by defining my natural waistline. And, hello! Why is my favorite red dress stuck in the closet when those ripped jeans and paint-spattered t-shirts get to go to the grocery store?
But as A helped me put together outfits and accessorize, I realized that my current stylistic rut is not my closet’s fault for being too big, it’s mine for being lazy. I’m the one who is doing the disservice to my wardrobe and myself by limiting my own fabulousness. During the winter months, I abhor getting dressed (when I change out of pajamas at all) because all I can focus on is staying warm- and the clothes are so bulky and itchy and awful. But now, it is Spring! Time for rejuvenation, time for change, time for fashion, and time to send those polo ponies packing.
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