But you still need to activate your account.
Some of you rang in the new year by making resolutions. Others celebrated by drinking champagne.
I started cleaning out my closet. Out with the old, in with the new, right?
It all started the day after Christmas, as ShopGuy and I were rearranging the guestroom yet again. There is not a room in the house that doesn’t have a stash of my clothes hidden somewhere – I’d stuff jeans in the pantry if I knew I could get away with it. But several of my stashes were revealed in the process of setting up an extra bed for company.
All told, I have three closets, one armoire, and a portable clothes rack full of sweaters, pants, dresses and purses. That doesn’t include the coat closet, my shoes, or my boxed-up summer clothes. Nor does it account for the bags of clothing I donated to Goodwill when I moved last summer.
Clearly, things have gotten out of hand.
I’m the first to admit that I’m a consummate consumer, but it was a bit shocking to see how much I had accumulated. And it was even more shocking to realize that I was not practicing what I preached. I always tell people to live by the two-year rule. If you haven’t worn it in two years, toss it.
Needless to say, I discovered things I hadn’t worn in six years. Last summer, I finally parted with my high school jeans, into which I could probably fit my big toe. But what about the double-breasted navy blue suit with brushed gold buttons (I’m shuddering as I write)? Or the jeans from my big-butt phase? Or the light-blue capri pants that were the victim of an unfortunate run-in with a glass of cabernet? What, is the stain going to magically disappear?
And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. ShopGuy picked out some Ghosts of Christmas Past – the silver satin blouse with shoulder pads and a kaleidoscope-esque purple shirt that were well-intentioned gifts that never saw the light of day.
The real clincher came when my stash of pajamas and lounging-around clothes was revealed. I worked as a bartender in college, and thus acquired many beer-themed T-shirts. I still have all of them, and they’re crammed into a shelf in a tucked-away closet. I figured I needed something to wear while painting and sanding and gardening, so why not keep them? Well, that’s fine, but do I really need 25 beer shirts?
No. But the closet-cleaning issue is so much larger than T-shirts and jeans. It’s about emotional attachment. How could I possibly get rid of that skirt my aunt gave me? Why on earth would I part with ShopGuy’s old sweater? And what about that dress that reminds me of a long-ago trip to Canada?
But when I took them out and piled them on my bed, I didn’t feel a twinge of nostalgia. Instead, I felt trapped by my stuff. This did not bode well for ShopGirl.
So I started weeding through the jungle that is my closet(s). I pulled out the satin shirt. I gave away a peach lace skirt (very Molly Ringwald circa 1985). So far, I’ve tossed a few items and put a few more in the “maybe” pile. Not great, but it’s a start.
Pretty soon, I’ll have enough room to shop again – and that’s all the motivation I need.
Shop notes
I’m kicking off 2004 with a new schedule. My column is going weekly, and hopefully not weakly. What I need is a little help from you, my dear readers.
I want to hear your suggestions of where to shop, what you’ve seen, and what you want more of. I consider myself a shopping master, but I can only be so many places at once, and if there’s a new boutique in Houlton, Bar Harbor or Dover-Foxcroft, I want to hear about it.
Merchants, drop me a line. Shoppers, please do the same. Sure, I can shop till I drop, but my column would flop without your input.
ShopGirl would love to hear from you! Send questions, comments or suggestions by e-mail to: kandresen@bangordailynews.net, by U.S. mail to: Kristen Andresen, P.O. Box 1329, Bangor, ME 04402-1329, or by fax to: 941-9476.
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