closet sweep

I have limited domestic skills.  The kitchen, or anything related to it, is not an area where I have much expertise.  But I am good at organizing.

My mom asks me to help with her closet.  This I can do.

The first thing I notice are her hangers.  I immediately recommend switching out the plastic ones for wooden ones.  “Why, I like those hangers?” she responds.  “And besides, wooden hangers take up too much room.”  They don’t, and she has plenty of room.  A big open walk in closet and another big closet. 

I suggest grouping her clothes by type.  Morning walking clothes.  Hanging around the house clothes.  And casual dress up.  She agrees but we don’t get that far.

Today’s mission is to sort out those clothes that can be discarded.   It isn’t as easy as it should be.  It never is.  Clothes carry emotional connections.  Where did I last wear it?  Who gave it to me, if it were a present? Who was I with? I am pretty good at parting ways with clothes, but I still have a maternity dress I can’t say bye to, and a dress I wore to a wedding with Eric in 1989.  It’s a beautiful, still in style dress.  I weighed about 110 pounds and will never fit in it again, but still, I cannot part with it.

So we start. 

“No not that.  I wear that as a beach cover up.”  This is repeated multiple times for various tops I think should be thrown out. 

“No.  I like that.  You gave that to me.”

“That’s a great throw on.  I love wearing that around the house.”  Repeated over and over for items that can only be worn when there are no guests around.

“No, not that.  I wear that to walk in.”  Yes, but how many walking tops does one really need?

“I still might wear that.”  Referring to items that haven’t been worn in years.

“They are still showing that.”  

We make a big pile (though not big enough).  I could still reduce my mom’s closet by half.  I bag the items and then collect the bent plastic hangers, plastic skirt hangers, and the wire hangers from the cleaners.  Even these require a discussion.  We disagree on which hangers should be tossed and which should be kept.

My mom thinks we have accomplished a lot.  I look at her closet and know there is so much more to do, if she’d only let me.

My sister Jean arrives later in the day.  She sees a big pile of clothes that my mom is moving from her bedroom closet to another bedroom upstairs where she keeps her off-season clothes.  My sister starts to go through the clothes and asks, “Why are these here?  Aren’t they being thrown out?”  Thank-you Jean.

Tomorrow I’ll have my sister’s voice echoing mine. Together we’ll convince my mom to part with more clothes.  It won’t be easy but I am optimistic.