it's more than just clothes

Despite winter weather, I decide to finally switch into spring clothing.  That means closet cleaning.

This year I am trying really hard not to be sentimental about my clothes, and if I don't love something, toss or recycle it.

It takes almost all day. I am mostly successful. 

The Michael Kors, Chanel (just one skirt), Jill Sander, Donna Karan and Yves St. Laurent days are gone. I see no more business suits, or even business attire, in my future.  If I ever need a suit to wear, would I even feel good putting one on from ten or more years ago?  I doubt it.  

I take all the plastic off the cleaning bags (something I now plan to do when I get my cleaning back) and discover a perfectly preserved Agnona blouse I haven't worn since 2006.

Back then blouses cost only $5 to clean and my 10021 zip code hadn't yet changed.

I finally part with the gorgeous black velvet dress I bought at a Soho boutique in 1989. I wore it once, to Eric's father's 50th birthday at the Hilton. I was so nervous about meeting him, I drank too much and ended up passed out among the coats for most of the evening. You would think the memory of that night would have caused a departure of the dress much sooner.

Then there's the Donna Karan short black dress I wore to my 25th High School reunion in 1994. It was a fun night, and I was at my thinnest. I doubt the dress will ever fit again, but I kept it for years thinking it might. It's still beautiful, but I finally say good-bye.

Erased from my closet, too, is a black dress I wore for an event honoring my brother-in-law Abbey in November 2007. I wore the dress once, and hope never to be big enough to fit in it again.

At least the dress was pretty.

I toss two custom knee braces I had made in 1998 after I tore my ACL and thought I might ski again. I have no idea how I ended up with two, as I never wore one.

I toss things that still have tags on them. A beautiful too-big-now Michael Kors dress. A silk blouse from Calypso. A brown Donna Karan skirt that was discounted so much I thought I had to have it, even though I never wear brown.  And a Current Elliott black tee bought last year. Since discovering ATM, I've discarded almost all my other tees.

And then I find a few things. 

A new pair of shoes in a bag in a closet Alexander never uses.  I got these for Alexander only a few months ago. I think he totally forgot about them.

An empty plastic bag carelessly thrown into a closet yields a pair of sunglasses I though I'd lost a couple of months ago at Duane Reade.  



It's a nice surprise.  

So is the Loro Piana linen black wrap that I have no recollection of ever buying. I will definitely wear it now that I know I have it.



After I'm done with my two closets, I organize the mess.



I arrange everything into four piles: things I'll send to the Cape and will wear there; things my sister and/or mom might like; three gigantic bags for the Salvation Army; and 14 pieces I will deliver to the exceedingly fussy designer resale shop nearby.

I think I get rid of everything I don't wear.  Except for one piece: a much-loved black Calvin Klein dress I wore in 1993 to another event honoring my brother-in-law.



I wear the same dress again in June 1999 to attend an engagement party for my ex-boyfriend John and his now-wife Lynn.

The dress still looks great and, still fits. If I don't wear it this spring, I'll toss it during my next closet purge.

I think cleaning closets takes so long as each piece has a past, and before saying good-bye, I subconsciously relive its history. It's an exhausting day. But at that end of it, I feel cleansed.