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It's that time again. Time to get out the winter wear and put away the summer clothes. Not that there's a particularly huge difference between the winter and summer weather here in Northern California. I'm not hauling out parkas or snow boots, and I'll continue to wear short sleeves year-round, though when it's chilly I'll layer a sweater over top.
But I grew up in the Northeast, where such biannual rituals were the norm, and storage space at our little bungalow is tight (there's a huge understatement). So I continue the tradition, folding up the tank tops and sundresses and packing them into the bin marked "Jen's Seasonal Clothes."
Once upon a time, this was a relatively simple process. Then I had two kids and aged five years and experienced the body changes that went along with all of that. I was up over 200 pounds when I gave birth to BJ, gaining more than 60 pounds with his pregnancy. I dropped most of that weight while nursing him (one more reason to thank the heavens for breastfeeding). But not all of it, alas. And then I regained a fair amount of it back while carrying BB.
Again, most of those pounds took care of themselves by the time I'd weaned BB. (All this is still almost impossible for me to believe, even though I lived it.) So I'm only about 15 pounds over where I was before I conceived BJ. A far cry from weighing 200 pounds. But it's an important 15 pounds, and they change nearly everything about my body. Alas.
So now, instead of just taking out the clothes for the season and putting away the ones that I won't need for the next several months, I am faced with a multitude of calculations about what fits, what doesn't, and what might in the future. I was never one to do much in the way of dieting, so before all this my weight and size was pretty stable. (A fact for which I am profoundly grateful.) I've always had a frugal perspective on clothes shopping and a dislike for especially trendy clothes, so I tend to own things that don't really go "out of style." (Unless I'm really fooling myself. If I am, somebody please enlighten me!) Add in my packrat tendencies, inherited honestly from my dad, and all this means I'm faced with stacks of clothes that I've held on for much too long.
I found sweaters, circa 1989. A suit from my first "real" job, teaching composition. I bought it in 1994 or 95 and last wore it in 2000. I love that suit. It's a classy cut, a lovely plum color, and stylish without seeming a-la-mode. I found lots of skirts and pants that I haven't worn in years. You get the idea.
Funny how when I first got pregnant, I was so eager to abandon all these clothes in favor of a maternity wardrobe, which I started to wear much earlier than necessary. Since then, I've been hanging on to them for a variety of reasons, some economical, some emotional. In some cases, I've abandoned the notion that I'll actually wear said item of clothing again, and in lieu of that I've concocted elaborate ideas about how it could be repurposed, refashioned, or remade into something else.
At such times, my crafty inclinations seem more a Crafting Curse than a creative blessing. There's a reason that googling "craft organizer" brings up nearly half a million entries. With crafting, comes clutter.
This year, I decided, it's time. It's gotta go. I have enough other clutter in my life. Mama's Magic Studio has all but taken over the bedroom. The kids' toys are a storage nightmare (and that's a topic for a whole 'nother post). The kitchen is overflowing with stuff that won't fit in the cabinets. As a result, the house is feeling less and less like a home.
Some days, my entire environment feels like one giant Tetris game. Move these pieces around strategically, find a wee bit more space where there was none before.... except that, unlike Tetris, things don't disappear when I line them all up. They just keep piling, up and up.
So goodbye, stretched out sweaters that I've worn since high school. (Though I confess I rescued one from the donation pile, because it simply is too comfy. Baby steps.) I did throw away the worst cases, but much of it is still in quite usable condition. So, goodbye to four garbage bags full of old clothes that are "perfectly good." May somebody else give you a good home. Because I can't anymore. And I refuse to feel guilty about it. Yes, in a different situation I might be able to make something wonderful from most of you. Darling little outfits for the kids, lovingly remade from my old clothes. Wee hats from old sweaters. (Yes, I've been reading Amanda Soule's Handmade Home. And loving it. But that way madness lies!)
I recently discovered The Happiness Project, a lovely blog by Gretchen Rubin. The book is coming out soon and I've put it on my Christmas list. Today, her post was uncannily timely with her Eleven Myths of De-Cluttering.These three tips were especially helpful for me as I fight the temptation to dig back into the bags and rescue more "treasures" before they go to the Goodwill:
5. "I can’t get rid of anything that I might possibly need one day." How terrible would it be if you needed a glass jar and didn’t have one? Do you have gigantic stores of things like rubber bands or ketchup packets? How many coffee mugs does one family use? (In my case, it's more like "I can't get rid of anything that I might possibly use one day. For crafting, in most cases." See the Crafting Curse above.)
8. "I might lose a ton of weight and then I’d fit into these clothes again." If you lose a bunch of weight, you’ll want to buy a new pair of jeans, not a pair you bought seven years ago.
11. "If I have any available space, I should fill it up with something." No! One of my Secrets of Adulthood is Somewhere, keep an empty shelf. I know where my empty shelf is, and I treasure it.
I'm taking this to heart. While I don't have "available space," not in the least, I do recognize this compulsion to fill and over-fill the space that I do have. Nowhere in my life is there an empty shelf. I'm going to do what's necessary to have one. If not in this home, then in the next!
But I grew up in the Northeast, where such biannual rituals were the norm, and storage space at our little bungalow is tight (there's a huge understatement). So I continue the tradition, folding up the tank tops and sundresses and packing them into the bin marked "Jen's Seasonal Clothes."
Once upon a time, this was a relatively simple process. Then I had two kids and aged five years and experienced the body changes that went along with all of that. I was up over 200 pounds when I gave birth to BJ, gaining more than 60 pounds with his pregnancy. I dropped most of that weight while nursing him (one more reason to thank the heavens for breastfeeding). But not all of it, alas. And then I regained a fair amount of it back while carrying BB.
Again, most of those pounds took care of themselves by the time I'd weaned BB. (All this is still almost impossible for me to believe, even though I lived it.) So I'm only about 15 pounds over where I was before I conceived BJ. A far cry from weighing 200 pounds. But it's an important 15 pounds, and they change nearly everything about my body. Alas.
So now, instead of just taking out the clothes for the season and putting away the ones that I won't need for the next several months, I am faced with a multitude of calculations about what fits, what doesn't, and what might in the future. I was never one to do much in the way of dieting, so before all this my weight and size was pretty stable. (A fact for which I am profoundly grateful.) I've always had a frugal perspective on clothes shopping and a dislike for especially trendy clothes, so I tend to own things that don't really go "out of style." (Unless I'm really fooling myself. If I am, somebody please enlighten me!) Add in my packrat tendencies, inherited honestly from my dad, and all this means I'm faced with stacks of clothes that I've held on for much too long.
I found sweaters, circa 1989. A suit from my first "real" job, teaching composition. I bought it in 1994 or 95 and last wore it in 2000. I love that suit. It's a classy cut, a lovely plum color, and stylish without seeming a-la-mode. I found lots of skirts and pants that I haven't worn in years. You get the idea.
Funny how when I first got pregnant, I was so eager to abandon all these clothes in favor of a maternity wardrobe, which I started to wear much earlier than necessary. Since then, I've been hanging on to them for a variety of reasons, some economical, some emotional. In some cases, I've abandoned the notion that I'll actually wear said item of clothing again, and in lieu of that I've concocted elaborate ideas about how it could be repurposed, refashioned, or remade into something else.
At such times, my crafty inclinations seem more a Crafting Curse than a creative blessing. There's a reason that googling "craft organizer" brings up nearly half a million entries. With crafting, comes clutter.
This year, I decided, it's time. It's gotta go. I have enough other clutter in my life. Mama's Magic Studio has all but taken over the bedroom. The kids' toys are a storage nightmare (and that's a topic for a whole 'nother post). The kitchen is overflowing with stuff that won't fit in the cabinets. As a result, the house is feeling less and less like a home.
Some days, my entire environment feels like one giant Tetris game. Move these pieces around strategically, find a wee bit more space where there was none before.... except that, unlike Tetris, things don't disappear when I line them all up. They just keep piling, up and up.
So goodbye, stretched out sweaters that I've worn since high school. (Though I confess I rescued one from the donation pile, because it simply is too comfy. Baby steps.) I did throw away the worst cases, but much of it is still in quite usable condition. So, goodbye to four garbage bags full of old clothes that are "perfectly good." May somebody else give you a good home. Because I can't anymore. And I refuse to feel guilty about it. Yes, in a different situation I might be able to make something wonderful from most of you. Darling little outfits for the kids, lovingly remade from my old clothes. Wee hats from old sweaters. (Yes, I've been reading Amanda Soule's Handmade Home. And loving it. But that way madness lies!)
I recently discovered The Happiness Project, a lovely blog by Gretchen Rubin. The book is coming out soon and I've put it on my Christmas list. Today, her post was uncannily timely with her Eleven Myths of De-Cluttering.These three tips were especially helpful for me as I fight the temptation to dig back into the bags and rescue more "treasures" before they go to the Goodwill:
5. "I can’t get rid of anything that I might possibly need one day." How terrible would it be if you needed a glass jar and didn’t have one? Do you have gigantic stores of things like rubber bands or ketchup packets? How many coffee mugs does one family use? (In my case, it's more like "I can't get rid of anything that I might possibly use one day. For crafting, in most cases." See the Crafting Curse above.)
8. "I might lose a ton of weight and then I’d fit into these clothes again." If you lose a bunch of weight, you’ll want to buy a new pair of jeans, not a pair you bought seven years ago.
11. "If I have any available space, I should fill it up with something." No! One of my Secrets of Adulthood is Somewhere, keep an empty shelf. I know where my empty shelf is, and I treasure it.
I'm taking this to heart. While I don't have "available space," not in the least, I do recognize this compulsion to fill and over-fill the space that I do have. Nowhere in my life is there an empty shelf. I'm going to do what's necessary to have one. If not in this home, then in the next!
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