No, This is the Easiest Way to Cull Useless Clothes

I was wrong in March.  I think you secretly know that the fastest way to decide whether to keep any garment is to ask:  What if my first love came to the door? 

 (The real truth is I'd just as soon see my incredible studio alternations guy from Burbank, CA, than my first love.  I think.  Maybe.  No.)

This has to be your firsts real love, not that guy from high school who was mostly worried about why you didn't seem as skinny or passionate as some others.

Close your eyes and just hear the bell ringing.  Picture him standing there.  How does he look now?

No, first put your job interview suit in a safe place - you might be tempted to junk it, cause you know it would leave him cold.

Now the recycle bag.

There goes the denim skirt (you really need a denim skirt) that is cut to add 20 pounds and several years even in the front view.

Those black tweed pants that wrinkle in front after 20 minutes.  That too-big jacket-looking thing that can't be altered into a smaller summer jacket.  That pullover top that's scratchy - how can you look like someone's lost love if your top itches?

Unless you're reed-thin, get rid of all tee shirts with writing unless they're advertising his favorite band.  (You do remember his favorite band, right?)

It is okay to get a teen ager to help with this--just don't tell him or her about the first love part.

And junk half the clothes with rayon or acrylic - you're likely to feel pretty warm when you open the door to your memory HugBunny.

If you can't visualize your handsome prince at the door, just open the closet and look at each item:  Would I want to be wearing this if J walked into the restaurant?  If he walked into the library?  If he came to the house to check the electricity?

Will this outfit remind him of our school days?  Or remind him of his mother?

And what if he's turned out to be a slob?  Well, at least you'll look so good he may stop at the barber shop on his way to WeightLoss, Inc. and the florist.

I think I may need a bigger recycle bag.

FOUR MAGIC WORDS CUT CLUTTER?

What if dealing with our stuff is as simple as doing two things?

Start something

Finish something

Of course, joining a gym so you can lift Fred's junk out of the hall isn't the type of Start I had in mind.

 I don't want you to quit your job so you have time to Finish tearing everything out of the garage in search of the tax records from 2001.

I've seen the lists.  I've made the lists.  Lists like:

Finished coloring my hair

Finished my mani/pedi. 

Finished washing the bedding.

But my stuff was still all over the place.

As I've mentioned before, a wise and talented man (who got very prosperous, by the way) told me to make my bed.  Just make my bed. No explanation.  Years later I heard the reason:  Making my bed is finishing something.  It reminds me how simple it can be to finish something. Something like opening the box marked T, discovering the tax files, chucking them in a file cabinet.

My latest list looked like:

Start buying and using pants and skirt hangers that actually work

Start looking for some hangers that don't dump things on the floor

Start putting books to return in a small bag so they won't be everywhere

Made me much happier about my clothes, the car interior, and getting dressed.  BUT: 

We only have to start one (1) thing: Just one thing off a start list.

We only have to mark off a tiny section of the cabinets and start removing junk.   

Great habits start with one Start.

CLOSET BREAKTHRU or, hanging solution for difficult clothes

Went to WalMart to return the exercise mat with the "carcinogens" label.

Found my dream footstool (read Rubbermaid plastic stepstool.)  Note to self:  sometimes you have to go to a store where women work.  Guys don't understand concepts like: No, not a step ladder.)

But on to the other solutions:  first a little dish that clamps on the side of the round bin in my top drawer.  This little thing will corral all the ear plugs, miniature bottles of calendula cream, and lip balm.  Or the earrings, when I'm too sleepy to walk over to the little jewelry box.

Big finish:

They have the hangers I've always dreamed of and didn't have the sense to invent.  There is a rubber (okay, it's probably just non-slip plastic, work with me here.)  line across the top edge so the necks of my knit tops don't stretch out every few minutes.  The have (oh, this is too wonderful)  a tiny line of rubber between shoulders so a scarf will stay anchored there.  And more!  There is also rubber along the bottom that I think will keep my long, black knit skirt from rolling into a ball in the corner of the hanger or on the floor.

They look feminine enough and the price, my friends, is right.

CAN'T FACE THE CLOSET? Make molehills out of mountains

Okay, what am I talking about?  Maybe you never been accused of making mountains our of molehills.  As you can see, it just means exaggerating, blowing things out of proportion.   Maybe your closet looks to you as if the entire women's department of a giant store has fallen out of a truck.

You want it fixed now, but you'd rather go to the dentist.  And you're a girl who's been told, possibly by me, to finish what you start.

So divide up that mountain of clothes. Make a Section One.  I knew a very smart man who did his closet six inches at a time (and he liked clothes.)  Knot a red ribbon around the clothes pole six inches from the door, or eight inches from the left wall.

You will need a large bag.  Don't skip the bag.  It's useless to make a pile of clothes you don't want and then put the pile back in the closet until whenever.  The rule is DON'T PUT ANYTHING BACK IN.

If you can't make up your mind about last year's orange top, have your friend Coco keep it for you. It's kinda like how to avoid overeating. If we keep food by the tv, we keep eating it.  And If that pair of dreary slacks doesn't need ironing,  you grab it every morning, and  think you need it.  But if you have to go to Coco's house to get it, you'll know it's not worth the trip.

Anyway, with only six inches to do today, you can take everything out and even try it all on--someplace where you can see the back.  If you can't see the back at home, wear it to Macy's or someplace and look at yourself from the back in the fitting room.  

When you've sent the maybe clothes to Coco's, and the rejects to the charity bag, put your shoes on and take your favorite, but wrinkled outfit to the cleaners.  The better care you take of it, the more you'll value it, and yourself.  If it's midnight, put the outfit on a chair by the front door for the cleaner's tomorrow.

Now you've finished something!  And maybe even found a blouse you'd forgotten about, to wear tomorrow.

THE WORLD'S FASTEST WAY TO CLEAN OUT CLOTHES

This is incredibly easy.  You may be able to do it in an afternoon.

The catch is, you and a friend have to do it for each other at the same time. Or at least on the same day.

This requires only two pieces of equipment:  a light in the closet, and a video cam.  

After putting on each piece of clothing, she walks away from you as you point the camera at the rear view of her in the outfit.

Then off to your closet, where she shoots your back view (remember you're walking, not standing) in your outfits.  

As you can see, this requires that you both be good, kind friends.  

But just in case, all traces of the videos must be obliterated before you take all those unflattering clothes to the donation bin down the road.

MY PORTABLE BATHROOM . . . ALMOST

For the second time in a long time, I'm sharing a bathroom with a man, right now, my son-in-law.  And strangely enough, this makes me more organized.

I have a basket, not really big, that has two plastic coffee shop cups in it.  Also a small hairbrush, a small mirror, sunscreen, toothpaste, nail file, small hairspray, and a sandwich bag with tiny dental stuff.

In one plastic cup is mascara, a shaver, very small scissors, and seldom-used eye shadow.

In the other is the rest of the dental equipment.

Of course, I get in a hurry and put things in the wrong cup when I suddenly have to go somewhere, but at least, they're in the basket!

The whole thing goes back to the bedroom to save room on the vanity.

Bigger things, like jumbo mouthwash and  liquid soap for shower and shampoo, can stay in the bathroom.

Of course, if you have children under the age of 40, this may not be foolproof, but it works for me.

GRABBING STUFF BEFORE WORK CLUTTER

Once a long time ago, a roommate who was very busy had an idea for cutting down on time getting dressed.  She announced that if our chests of drawers had seven drawers we could put everything for one day in the same drawer, and save all the digging around.  

Fast forward to now.  You've maybe put tops with tops, bottoms with bottoms, and getting ready in the morning (or evening) is not a bowl of cherries. The clock is ticking; the pile on the bed is growing. 

 I can't get you a seven-drawer highboy, but maybe this will help.  

Pretend you're a flight attendant.  You can't be late, you can't carry a bunch of layering clothes.  You have to look your best.  The buttons can't be off the last clean uniform. 

So here we are with our imaginary, tiny flight attendant suitcase that wouldn't even hold my four-section Baggatini that was supposed to be the first love of flight attendants.  I have no idea what real flight attendants do, but this is pretend.  

So just mark off a territory in your closet for two fast,  absolutely last-minute-grab, late-for-work outfits.  Complete with shoes, maybe with stockings tucked in, if you wear them.  In this weather, I'd wear fur lined jeans if I could find them, but I digress.

Your appropriate undies are hanging right beside the foolproof outfits in wondrous, tough transparent hanger bags.

Two outfits, because you're going to send one of them to the cleaners on time, or the shoes to the shoemaker on time, or at least to  the kitchen for polish.)

Right now two outfits don't seem enough for the hot, freezing, and rarely medium  weather we have here in rotation.  But I do have my fail-safe, pre-takeoff two. 

For example:  

Really good grey washable pants
Grey waist-length tie sweater
White top for under grey sweater 
Black leather shoes with black socks
Black Baggatini 
Quilt coat or blazer or white washable jacket, depending on weather and formality.

When it's pushing a hundred degrees:
A black cotton dress, petti pants, and in an emergency, sandals.  

The backup outfit is the same color scheme.  Nothing is too fragile. I won't be on a plane soon, but you never know when you'll meet a rogue three-year-old with a strawberry ice cream cone.

The closet is small and crowded, but if I put the pants next to the shelves, then the sweaters are handy. Shoes on a shelf.  And my socks are separated; business socks for business shoes.  Even a scarf in one of those hanging transparent bags.  When I find out where to get those bags, I'll let you know.  

PS  When I was in storage design, my clients would never do this.  But I can picture what happens in the morning, because they have so many decisions to make, and so much crossing back and forth in the closet.