There’s no hard and fast rule about how much clothing a person should have. But many of us undoubtedly have too many. Yes: doing laundry sucks. But you’re a grown up. You don’t need a wardrobe so large that laundry is only necessary every few months.
Ok, maybe I should back-up. If you have a killer wardrobe that is excellently curated and full of gorgeous, timeless pieces you always include in your rotation, that’s great. The reality is, though, many of our closets are full of … junk. Junk we hate, regret buying, or have worn to tatters. Junk that never looked good, was an impulse buy, or isn’t really our style any more.
I recently realized I’m not entirely satisfied with my style. And that’s because I too keep that junk around. There junk I never wear, and even worse, there’s the junk I often wear because, even though I hate it, I haven’t done laundry in a while. When I wear these mediocre things, it affects my life. I feel insecure, not myself, or just straight-up uncomfortable. And, of course, it’s always these days I run into a crush or get a last minute invitation to somewhere I want to look fresh. Such is life.
So it seems to me there’s a simple solution to my style rut. Throw out the clothes that are sub-par. Sure, that will mean I have a much smaller wardrobe, and I can’t really afford to go buy things to replace what I lose. So yes, I’ll have to do laundry more often. But it will be worth it, especially if I can feel like a million bucks every time I leave my apartment.
Here’s what I’m throwing out. And if you have any of these things in your closet, too, I recommend you join me.
– The vintage dress whose color I hate. Yes it’s authentic. Yes, it was magical that it fit me perfectly and was only $20. But its ugly shade of brown washes me out and looks awful in picture.
– The jumpsuit that shrank in the wash. It still technically fits. But only technically.
– The shorts that stretch out after 5 minutes of wear. They look so cute when I put them on. But as soon as I leave the apartment they look like two cropped garbage bags stapled together.
– Every single t-shirt. I don’t need a t-shirt to remind me I went to a concert 5 years ago.
– The beautiful lace camisole that is 2 inches too long and matches nothing else I own. I try this on almost every time I’m getting dressed. It’s never looked good. It never will.
– The shirt that only looks good if I adjust it every 30 seconds. It looks so good when it drapes over my shoulder just so. But is it worth looking like I have a tic? Probably not.
– The shoes I thought I needed because they were “sensible.” I always choose the bright purple booties over my simple black pumps, anyway.