last week, i looked in my closet and i thought to myself, 'i'm sick of looking at a closet full of clothes i can't wear.' over the course of the last two years, i've slowly gained 20 pounds. my being nearly six feet tall makes it hard for others to notice my weight gain. but when i pull a dress over my head and shoulders and then it sticks at my hips or i can't get a skirt up over my hips--well, it's noticeable to me.
my body doesn't bother me. i don't think i'm fat. most of my aspirations regarding my body have to do with being in better shape. more endurance (for all those long nights of dancing). more strength. not finding myself short of breath. being ready for a long bike ride or a backpacking trip. but looking at a closet full of clothes that i can't wear has a way of re-focusing my body-image on weight rather than on health. so i decided it was time for a purge.
i was (mostly) ruthless. always in the past when i've purged my closet, i've kept items that i haven't worn (for whatever reason) recently but that i still love. this time if it didn't fit, it was out. into storage. when the season for whatever item it is rolls around again, i'll try it on again. and if it doesn't fit, it goes to charity. even if it's something i simply love.
i took over 50 items out of my wardrobe. yes, i know. that's a lot, especially given how much is still in my closet. i'm a bit of a pack-rat. and, because i'm a bit fastidious about caring for my clothes, i keep them (and my shoes) forever (the oldest item i got rid of was 13 years old). it's only when i realize that an item has simply slipped out of favor that i get rid of it. but this time it was about fit, not favor. and it felt wonderful to purge.and yes. i am slightly OCD. why do you ask?