Good afternoon, Monday. I have to say this is my first Monday back at home in a while, and instead of vegging out like I wanted to, I ended up doing a ton of work around the casa- including a full scale closet invasion and clean out. As many of you know, I have more clothes than I should, and although my home style is a bit minimalist, my clothes hoarding is anything but. I have a really hard time getting rid of stuff- I'm attached to my clothing like crazy but comes a time when you can no longer see what you've got that stuff just needs to go.
There are all those Calypso dresses that I collected like baseball cards, the sea of tricky vintage pieces that are not terribly valuable but somehow very cool, and a hot mess of skirts and dresses that I will never, ever wear again, no matter how thin I get, how fat I get, or anything in between. It's funny how my style has once again evolved since being back in New York- my tendency to wear dresses is slowly going the way of the Hammer pant as so least summer. Suddenly, I'm drawn to simple tanks by Alexander Wang and James Perse and lightweight jeans or leggings, with some sort of cool sneaker or flat. With these pieces, I've been wearing a few layered necklaces or a simple strand of pearls, just to keep it all from getting too toughskins and not cute. For some reason, I'm feeling ridiculously low key this summer, like I want to blend in and simply be dressed for anything- looking a bit rock and roll, cool, and entirely comfortable. Thus the tricky vintage dresses and cheery and bright dresses were not quite cuttin' it. They represent Miami for me and 7 years of being too hot to wear pants. Sure it's hot here in the city, but that's besides the point. We all know New York is the most fashionable city in the country, but it's casual here, subtle, and not at all over the top when it comes to being chic. Especially when you live in Brooklyn.
So armed with three large duffels full of clothes, I checked in to my local Buffalo Exchange to see what I could get a small amount of money for, with hopes of donating the rest. I was not in this to make money, mind you, but since I've never done the Buff before, I thought I would give it a shot. The deal is they give you about 30% of what they plan to sell your stuff for, or you can get a percentage as a "credit" on trade so that you can buy some stuff at the store. (Yea, I know). Give away stuff to only get more stuff. Oy. So as the cool young girl looked through my years of clothing, I felt strangely vulnerable, naked, and defensive. I found myself telling her how cool that cropped linen babydoll dress from H&M was, or how that Halston Heritage purple Indian gold flecked dress was unbelievable and never worn (my boobs didn't fit in it, and I never got around to returning it to GIlt. Damn side zips. Enemy of chesty girls everywhere). Here was this young chick going through my clothes, and I must admit, she did so with kid gloves, because somehow she sensed my monkey nerves as I parted with many of my treasures.
As she told me she was overloaded on dresses and tallied up what she wanted to take for the store, she shoved another pile in front of me and begged me to take them home and bring them back in the Fall when they'd be looking for more items like these. The store simply didn't have room for them, but she wanted them. Thinking about it, I realized that although I loved the idea of holding stuff for some young buyer at a cool store in Brooklyn, I too had no room for these pieces anymore, and decided that donating them was the only way to go so that someone else could enjoy them who was not worried about their seasonal appeal. My young friend understood and reluctantly put the pile in the donation bin, but decided to keep an Ann Taylor black and white bias cut long sleeved dress for herself.
$93 and about an hour later, I walked out of there, feeling free and light and a little bit more liquid. I'm trying hard to detach myself from the things I feel I need all the time- more clothes, more shoes, more stuff. This is not going to happen overnight, but as I slaved away in my closet this morning wondering how all this stuff got there, I noted that all of these pieces most likely add up to a nice chunk of change- and thoughts of owning some property upstate or having enough money to start a clothing line or write a book would be better than having to clean this stuff out twice a year. Baby steps, I say. Baby steps. And now, I have to leave you because I'm going to deposit my earnings at the bank. Every little bit helps, right? Getting rid of stuff can be really emotional and a pain in the ass, but somehow I know it's worth it. And that's what's up this purge of a Monday in the 212. It's about to start raining and I'm happy to report because of operation closet purge, I'm more than able to find my raincoat. XO