February 22nd, 2011
More and more these days I get the distinct feeling that the “stuff” in my life is causing me emotional scarring. My house is a mess most days and while a good part of the reason for that is probably my general untidiness, our overabundance of personal possessions isn’t helping. My new favorite blog summarized it beautifully. When we were young and dreaming of our futures…
“We never talked about our intentions to own so much stuff that we would spend our free time trying to organize it all.”
I’m so guilty of that. Just yesterday, while at Home Depot buying (more!!!) plastic storage bins, I tried to convince my husband that we Really Needed a bench thingy with drawers in it for our entry way. Because surely if I can just find the right piece of furniture in which to store them, our 84,000 hats and gloves will be manageable at last.
I’m tired of being surrounded by stuff. Clothes I don’t wear. Beauty products I don’t use. Knick-knacks that no longer bring me joy. Bleah.
I took a step in the right direction yesterday by doing a major closet overhaul. I managed to purge three big garbage bags full of clothing that’s headed for Goodwill. It felt good. Mostly. Some things were really darned hard to part with. There’s a whole genre of clothing that lurks in my closet — the “I don’t wear this anymore, but I love how I looked when I did wear it thus I cannot get rid of it.“
You know what I’m talking about. The favorite sweater that’s too short now but that you wore in your senior class pictures. Or the funky outfits you bought in India because they were cool but somehow seem less cool in America. Or your prom dress.
Oh, the prom dress. Getting rid of my prom dress from my senior year of high school was hands down the hardest thing for me. It’s beautiful. I was beautiful in it. Apart from my wedding dress, that is the single most gorgeous piece of clothing I have ever owned. I loved it.
But that was 12 years ago. I’m not 17 anymore (thank gawd) and the occasions at which I might wear such a dress have come and gone. (I did wear it again in college to a formal.) Even if I could fit into it. Which I can’t.
So I’m donating it to Project Prom which helps low-income girls get their hands on pretty dresses. And that helps me feel better about letting it go.