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How can I Declutter my Wardrobe?

Updated on July 23, 2017
Stella Kaye profile image

Stella has a collection of humorous anecdotes based largely on her own experiences and she would like to share these on Hub pages

Let's tackle the wardrobe first...

Source

Help! I'm a hoarder!

The other week I read an article in a woman's magazine entitled: How to de-clutter your life.

"Let's tackle the wardrobe first," the article advised. I was guilt-ridden, as I hadn't got around to tidying my wardrobe in ages and began to wonder if I should at least make some attempt, however feeble, to part with a few outdated items. The article urged me to be ruthless: "If you haven't worn it in the last year, bin it."


Wardrobe Worries

Hold on a minute, I thought. I haven't even been able to get to the wardrobe in the last year as there was a mountainous pile of assorted clothes and an ottoman full of unwanted Christmas presents directly in front of it. Why does everyone still persist in giving me bubble bath when I tell them I always take a shower? It's so easy these days to surround yourself with things you'll never need.

Recently the clutter in my bedroom had got out of hand and now I couldn't even get to my airing cupboard to change the timer from Greenwich Mean Time to British Summer time when the clocks went forward at the end of March. It wasn't entirely my fault as other family members had piled their discarded items in my bedroom too.

I gave up before I'd even started, the task in hand too daunting. I decided not to bother clearing the wardrobe just yet and the only tidying up I did for the rest of the day was to throw the offending magazine I was reading into the bin for recycled paper. My wardrobe could remain a veritable time capsule which I would open at my leisure at some undisclosed point in the future, I mused, happy in the knowledge that my platform shoes from the seventies would one day be coveted by my teenage daughter. "Wow! Were these in fashion when you were around?" she'll say.

"Watch it! I still am around!" I'll curtly reply.

But then, on the other hand, I reasoned, maybe I should try to tidy the wardrobe. Think of all the extra space I'd have for yet more things that I'll never wear. But I won't tidy it right now. Don't ever do today what you can put off until tomorrow (that's my motto by the way and I bet it sounds even better in Latin).

Being a hoarder had not caused me significant problems so far, but things were fast reaching saturation point. I'd run out of space and I was wasting far too much time searching for misplaced items around the house that should have been relatively easy to locate. When you have to shift half a dozen things out of the way first, life becomes increasingly difficult and that is the time to re-evaluate the situation and start parting with your clutter.

Saturday arrived and it was time for rehearsals at my theatre group. "We're just a bunch of amateurs on a tight budget so we can't afford to hire a wardrobe mistress," my director announced. "So all props and costumes must be provided by the cast you'd all better have a look and see what you can find at home... at the back of your wardrobes."

Looks like there's no avoiding it this time then, I thought, knowing that the only time I can ever raise the enthusiasm to de-clutter is when I can't find something or when someone wants me to find something for them. So this was perhaps the ideal opportunity for the wardrobe to be tackled after all. Wait a minute, I thought; I'd better have a few squirts of dust allergy nasal spray first... ahhh, that's better. I was ready for, anything now.

I placed the huge pile of clothes on my bed and the Ottoman was shifted. 'Open Sesame!' A whiff of stale air hit me and I was greeted by a row of clothes which I'd completely forgotten about, as boxes and boxes of shoes cascaded onto the bedroom floor in an untidy heap.

The hours passed and I discovered I'd quite enjoyed attacking the wardrobe once I'd summoned up enough ammunition. I filled two black bags full of items for Oxfam and I found two funny curly wigs which would do for the two ugly sisters in the play, plus a really horrid, frumpy floral dress which I wouldn't be seen dead in, but it might suit one of them.

I felt quite pleased with myself later, now that my wardrobe was more streamlined and tomorrow, I vowed, I might even attack the garage so there would be room for the car.

My director was pleased too. "The wigs are super," she said at the next rehearsal "But I don't think the dress will suit either of the ugly sisters... in fact, I was rather hoping YOU would wear it!"


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