It's spring and I'm going room by room and culling all of the things I don't have mental or physical space for anymore. But culling is sometimes hard when attachment remains or the stories behind the stuff run deep. These are those stories.
Going through my dresser drawers is sometimes like gazing at a cliff face, with layers of sediment from different phases of life and sizes of body. Fat clothes, normal clothes, skinniest clothes, fat mum clothes, healthy mum clothes, wedding clothes, one-off-wear clothes, old favourite clothes...
There are now two large purple garbage bags of clothes sitting next to the drawers, clothes I haven't worn in quite a while or probably won't wear again in the future. Here's some of what I'm giving away:
- Flowery navy blue maxi skirt with a waist band that I sliced at the side to accommodate my expanding girth when I was pregnant with Dear Boy. I held onto it, thinking I could convert it to a maxi dress but it remains possibly the frumpiest thing I've ever seen on my body.
- Mustard coloured tights that look great in the drawer but look nude-coloured when I wear them. I'm not going there.
- Three collared business shirt with girly ruching across the chest. The ruching just emphasises how much they gape at the moment. Plus ironing.
- White linen collarless shirt. White. Linen. Impossible to keep clean. Plus ironing.
- Two pairs of men's boxers that are near translucent after approximately eight years of wear as PJ shorts. I added my own button to the gaping fly and they were the comfiest things ever. But after stretching them to their limits while pregnant over the summer months, those babies don't stay on.
- Approximately one million long sleeved black tops from Cotton On. I found a good thing and stuck to it through many a Melbourne winter, layer upon layer. Then I outgrew their sizing options. Sigh.
- Fourth trimester stretchy fat jeans, the only pants I could find that fit my ballooned and deflated shape. Except they came with sparkles. I. Don't. Do. Sparkles. So I picked off all the little rhinestones and coloured in the sparkles with a Sharpie.
- Assorted skinny woolly scarves. Skinny scarves are just utterly pointless, especially in Melbourne.
- Skinny belts, never worn.
- And, with much shedding of tears, my most favourite Lululemon yoga top with a ruched back that they don't make anymore. The perfect size and the perfect length. Except after a few years of wear, the straps have disintegrated (see below).
Here's what I can't part with, none of which fit me at the moment:
- My $14 green wedding dress. Every time I see if hanging in my cupboard, I think of this. It's also still a nice dress to wear to other people's summery weddings.
- The grey business trousers I wore to my first university graduation. Although I can't even do the zip up now let alone the buttons, these were some seriously awesome pants.
- My size 10 jeans, quite possibly the only size 10 item I've ever worn as an adult. I felt triumphant in those things.
- Black Bonds maternity skirt, which is pretty much just a tube of stretchy fabric, but quite possibly the comfiest item of clothing I've ever worn in my life (at what was quite possibly the most uncomfortable time of my life). Although my memory of this is fairly hazy, I'm 90% sure I wore this to the hospital when I was in labour, dropped off at the front doors and then waddling and groaning and leaning and then half-sitting in a wheelchair up the birthing suites. Eight hours after that I was a mum.
Have you done a clothing cull this spring? What have you thrown away and what couldn't you part with?