Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Keep, Toss, Maybe...

Now, I am no fashionista - I paint over cracked nails and probably wear too much makeup. I don’t live out my everyday life in heels, I don’t keep up with the couture fashion shows and I’m not one of those uber fashionable girls you see papped in the fashion magazines as ‘high street fashion girls’. I am none of these things…but dammit, I like to look good!
 Somewhere between Monday and Sunday I can be found weaving in and out of the likes of Topshop, H&M, Debenhams, Zara and whichever cutesy boutiques happen to get in my road along the way. On the rare occasions that I emerge from these havens with a purchase, I am quick to love it, wear it, and become bored of it. If I were to imagine that any of these items in my wardrobe had feelings I’d struggle to feel anything less than the worst human being in the world…and would almost definitely be reported to the royal society for the prevention of cruelty to clothes by a number of my friends.

Today was a hard day; a day that no girl likes to go through. It was clear out day in the wardrobe department. As I battled with myself over the worth of numerous dresses, shoes, tops and bags, I could feel them weeping in my arms…some admittedly still with tags on. Nowadays though, we don’t have to send our clothes to that great big wardrobe in the sky or, heaven forbid, charity shops (I’m sorry, they can have old board games and books galore, but I simply can’t hand over a Topshop ’11 leather blazer RRP’ing at £75 and watch it get shelved at £4.50). We have been saved by a boom of online fashion sites dedicated to our ‘pre-loved’ clothes where we can share and share alike; some allow you to simply swap your items, while others offer the space to sell. The very idea of selling all my unwanted clothes and getting back even a small percentage of what I spent on them leaves me nothing short of giddy.
 But wait, shortly after logging onto one of said websites I am surrounded by an entire nations cast-offs, not sure where to look first. Good god…this is just another massive, completely mismatched shop. And I LOVE it. The next few hours are spent sifting through hundreds of pictures; tops, dresses, jewellery, jackets….I’m like a kid in a sweetie shop.
Before long I’ve completely forgotten about the massive pile of clothes next to me waiting to be sent off to new owners and have squandered more money than I care to admit (it rhymes with nixty mounds) on complete strangers’ rejects. I worry about how my clothes will feel about the new arrivals, sitting pretty in the wardrobe so soon after so many of them were discarded. The worry turns into guilt, the guilt turns into sympathy, the sympathy takes over (yes, this is the extensive emotional process we must go through during a wardrobe clear out) and I succumb to the clothes…hanging each and every piece back up on the rail. Where it belongs. I know this time next week some new cigarette pants or printed blouses will have snuck their way in and within a month I’ll have to entertain the idea of  a clear out again, purely due to the issue of storage space. For now though, I appreciate every single item for what it is; mine.
You’ll have to excuse me….I’m off to cuddle my wardrobe.