Friday, 4 March 2011

I have 19 hoodies

I know this, as I have just counted them.

Apparently having a triple wardrobe, two double wardrobes and a single full of clothes can be considered excessive.

I should also mention my coat collection is currently sprawled across another double wardrobe in my hall, hooks in my pantry and my staircase banister.

Oh and a couple in the back of my car.

The clothes I do have are pretty well organised. Types are sorted, as in all my t-shirts are together, all my shirts are together – both segregated further by long and short-sleeve denominations- and all are sorted into colours.

All this and I still look like shit.

I don’t actually buy clothes all that often, but when I do I tend to splurge, get a tad carried away, and obviously don’t throw any of my older stuff away.

You may call me a hoarder, but I am clearly suffering from Disposophobia. It is a disease, a serious condition effecting literally me, and it has no remedy.

Well, I say that, but while I can’t glug pills for it, I could actually get off my sweet hind and just sort my togs out.

See, I do wonder what percentage of my clothes I actually wear, perhaps there’s my motivation? I could put all this data in a spreadsheet?

But no, I have come up with a simple plan, a practical exercise, and it is just acting it out that is proving a smidge unattractive.

My genius idea is to clear one of my wardrobes completely, and as I wash and iron clothes, that I have obviously worn, to then put them in this wardrobe.

I would then pick clothes firstly from my newly assigned clothes home, only going over into my excess garments area when I simply can’t find a stitch to wear, darlings.

Then after a predetermined time, I could send all the clothes not in the primary apparel zone to the fashion police charity shop.

Obviously I also need to add a 'seasons' factor, as I would be a complete dick if I threw all my shorts away prior to our inevitable blistering summer.

Or, most likely, I could do nothing at all and wait for one of my family members to get so pissed with me that they sort all my stuff out for me.

Either … or really.

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