Getting organized? I'm good. Staying that way? Notsomuch.
So in an attempt to get organized and stay that way, I purchased The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo.
And I read it and was delighted, because I did not know it was a book of humorous essays, and those are my favorite!!!
If you've not read this book? You should borrow a copy from your library ASAP. It will either (a) change your life, just like the title implies, or (b) make you laugh out loud.
Subsequently, I'll be talking about a few of the things Ms. Kondo suggests, but for now we'll talk about clothes.
Now, I like clothing as much as the next person. (I liked 'em better when I was young and thin, not gonna lie.) When I go on vacation, I make a list of outfits and I pack smart by putting everything into my suitcase by outfit. It's mostly mix-and-match (you can read about that here) and there's a color story to keep it easy. (One neutral, two colors. Sometimes one of the colors happens to be a neutral, like when I packed for NYC.)
But let's be honest here, shall we? I am never going to wear a size 8 again unless I get some wasting disease, like Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge. Or was that Susan Sarandon in Stepmom? Anyway, no matter who it was, I will not be an 8 again.
So it was off to the closet.
Kondo says I have to get all my clothes out at once and look at them. Which actually was a b!tc# because those things are stored all over the house. (Old house = no closets.) So I schlepped things down from the attic and up from the basement and out of the one little closet where I keep my clothes. It took me about two hours just to get everything into the living room! (I'm so glad my living room is huge, because those suckers were piled EVERYWHERE!!)
Kondo also says I have to touch everything and can only keep it if it gives me joy when I hold it. (Which sounds vaguely pornographic, but there you have it.)
Readers, I found a lot of joy in those size 8s. I found joy in my smaller self, and I wanted to be her again. But guess what? After menopause, gravity is not a friend. Everything on me has shifted about 30 degrees south. So the size 8s were put into the discard pile, despite the joy I felt when I held them.
Unfortunately, there weren't too many other pieces of clothing that brought me joy, but one simply cannot go naked. Instead of joy, I decided that my litmus test would be "does it make me feel frumpy?" If it did, then it went into the discard pile. If it didn't, I kept it. In all, I got rid of about a third of my clothing, which might seem like a lot, but trust me...I probably need to go through the pile again. I'd like to be able to fit it all in one closet, if possible. (Probably not possible, given the lack of storage in this house. That will change when we get the attic bedroom completed, sometime around 2073.)
I plan periodic updates on the status of my life-changing magic, but I'm not sure cleaning feels all that life-changing to me. Life-changing is winning the lottery or Tina Fey asking you to help her write a new television show. Getting rid of size 8s is just depressing.