I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW

I've been spending the last week or so purging and cleaning out my closet and bedroom. It's amazing the sheer quantity of stuff you can amass when a) you have a love for clothing like I do and b) you tend to shop. A lot.

As I've got no less than 6 other rooms in my house that need much more immediate attention on a day to day basis, my room and closet get the scraps of time I have left over, which as you can see from earlier posts, there isn't much.

But this week is different. There was a sense of purpose and deliberate intent of getting this space cleaned up -- I was running out of things to wear. And if I went out and bought another outfit, Husband might throw all my belongings out on the lawn.

My closet has long been a dumping ground for everything you can think of. The following has been unearthed: clothing, clothing that needed mending, clothing that needed folding, clothing that needed washing, clothing for other seasons, clothing for other occasions, clothing to be donated, Husband clothing that needed mending, kids clothing that didn't fit yet, shoes for all seasons, Halloween costumes from years past, bags and purses in all colors and textiles, wrapping paper, a hammer and an opened bottle of Jack Daniels.

I can only assume the bottle of Jack came from a purse from a past night out. (Because we all need a drink on the go?) With all the food and gum found in my bags, I could convert my closet into a panic room. Not only would I be well fed on Cranberry Almond KIND bars and spearmint Orbit gum, but a swig of Jack would calm my nerves and I'd be warm and well hidden among the wool, down, cashmere and denim that populated the overstuffed hanging space. But I regress.

There is an amazing sense of accomplishment in tackling and successfully completing a task of this magnitude. To put a room the size of a Prius in order and to be able to see the floor -- not to mention the variety and options of all the pretty things I own and felt compelled to acquire -- is an immediate mood booster that offers a motivation and inspiration to improve ones self-esteem through a polished and put together wardrobe. And I actually feel like I have something to wear again.

Order, in even the smallest space, offers me an unbelievable sense of calm. I actually walk into this closet space to just look at my things. Not something I could have claimed to do before, even if I could have stepped over all the leather boot shafts and perilously scattered spikes of my high heels.

AND, all this order actually makes me want to pare down further. I read once about the luxury of having an empty shelf. It makes sense. To have a space that has no purpose, and not having so much stuff that you feel you MUST utilize it. Yes, it is a luxury. And that is my current goal: the luxury of an empty shelf in one of my most valuable pieces of real-estate.

Who really needs all this stuff anyway? Time for tough love.